The Sum of Their Parts
by Mediancat
Summary: Sequel to April 10, 1997. The Daria Faith combination and Dr. Lynette Vaughn head to Sunnydale to meet the Scooby gang, followed by one enemy and on the verge of confronting another . . .
1. Leopards

Author's Note: Welcome to the sequel. There will be seven viewpoint characters. You meet five of them in this part. Two guesses who the other two are.

Disclaimer: _Daria_ belongs to Glenn Eichler. _Buffy_ belongs to Joss Whedon. Lynette Vaughn and Cameron Kim belong to me.

X X X X X

"Are you quite certain about this, Buffy?" Giles asked. "With everything else going on right now?"

"Yeah, I am," Buffy said, "And even if I wasn't, it would be too late to do anything about it now. Unless we turn off all the lights and pretend we're not here. But somehow I don't think that would work."

"I suspect not," Giles said.

"Yeah," Buffy said, "I'm dropping out of college tomorrow, yeah, there's always Glory to deal with, and that's kind of my top priority. But taking a look at the person who used to be Faith isn't exactly like killing time watching old _Law & Order_ reruns."

"Fair enough."

"However," Buffy said as she turned around to glare at everyone else in the store, "I _don't_ recall asking for an audience."

"You don't have to ask," Willow said. "We're happy to help." When Buffy didn't stop glaring, Willow said, more seriously, "And anyway, I figured you might need my magic around if things get hairy."

"Okay, you make sense. And the rest of you?"

"I came with Willow," Tara said.

"I'm just curious," Xander said.

"Me too!" Dawn piped up.

"I work here," Anya said.

"Since when?" Giles asked wryly.

"Uh-huh. That's what I thought. You, you, and you -- out." With ill grace, Xander and Dawn left. As Tara walked out, she flashed Buffy a small smile, showing that she, at least, wasn't offended. Turning to Anya, she said, "You. Go do inventory."

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Anya said.

"I do," Giles said. "Go do inventory."

Surlily, Anya stalked off into the basement, muttering under her breath how she wouldn't have been treated like this when she was a vengeance demon, and how they all would have suffered horribly, yada yada yada.

"I must say," Giles said after Anya was out of earshot, "I'm surprised that she's coming down here so soon after being released from prison."

"Part of it, she said, is that she wanted to meet me -- she _is_, after all, a Slayer, even if she doesn't have a whole lot of experience at it -- part of it is wanting to get away from LA and all the publicity, and part of it has to do with an echo."

"An echo?"

"An echo," Buffy said. "When I asked what she meant, she said she'd explain it when she saw me."

"Which would be now," came a voice from the door.

X X X X X

The three people in the room all turned to look at Daria. Buffy, of course, she recognized immediately. The other two she wasn't completely sure of, though Faith had provided thorough descriptions the last time they'd talked. It was still annoying that the only way they could communicate was in notes or dreams, but Dr. Vaughn was reluctant to tinker with the wall between them. "She set it up for a reason," she'd said. "I couldn't tell you what it is, but I'm not going to tear it down. If it comes down, it'll come down on its own."

Daria continued with what she'd been saying. "That is," she said, "Assuming I'm the she you're talking about."

"That's a big yes," Buffy said. "Daria . . . Morgendoffer, I presume?"

"Almost," Daria said, not taking offense. "Morgen_dorffer._ And you're Buffy Summers, of course."

"Of course," Buffy said, a trifle uneasily. "But how did you know?"

"The echo," Daria said. "But I'll get to that later. My guess, then, is that you are Rupert Giles -- and you are Willow Rosenberg." At their equally puzzled expressions, Daria said, "Faith described you."

"She . . . described us?" Willow asked.

"In my dreams. The only time we ever talked." In the meantime, Giles -- Faith called him that, so Daria felt comfortable doing it as well -- had moved around from behind the counter. He walked over to Daria circled slowly around her. When it felt to Daria like she was taking too long, she said, "Go ahead. Kick the tires. Take her out for a test drive. See how she handles."

Looking a bit sheepish, Giles took a step back and said, "Um, yes. Sorry about that. It's just that --"

"Let me guess. If you didn't know I was Faith, you never would have figured it out."

Giles said, "Quite frankly, yes. I might have noted a resemblance, but apart from the leather jacket the two of you come across entirely differently."

"I've gotten that before. The accent, the clothes, the way I carry myself, the tone of my voice."

"Once again, I apologi--"

"Don't bother," Daria said. "I understand your reasons. But you can see why I'd be a little tired of being treated like I was on display at an art museum."

"I would have known," Willow said.

"Really?" Daria asked. "Magically, or do I just have an unmistakable air of Faithness about me? And I was so sure about that deodorant, too."

"You know what they say about leopards and spots," Willow said coldly.

"That they have them?"

"You can see why we'd be suspicious," Willow said.

"Being suspicious is fine," Daria said. "Just don't act like I'm not here while you're doing it."

"Believe me," Willow said, "I wasn't planning to." Okay. The attitudes had been well-defined. Willow was openly hostile, Giles was more curious than anything else, and Buffy was guarded, but willing to be civil, at least. That was a reasonably good start.

She walked up to Buffy and said, "Let's get this off to a more formal start. Daria Morgendorffer. Nice to meet you."

A bit bemused, Buffy said, "Buffy Summers. Likewise. And you were right -- that's Rupert Giles, and that's Willow Rosenberg."

Daria bowed slightly to each of them in turn. Giles returned the bow. Willow, pointedly, did not.

Buffy said, "So, pretty much all we know about you is the few things Angel's told us and what we've read in the paper. Care to give us the details?"

"I prefer to remain a woman of mystery," Daria said, deadpan. Then she smiled slightly and said, "But it's only fair, I suppose. So far, you seem like you're off to a good tart, so why don't I open the floor up for questions?" Willow stood up, and Daria said, "Yes? The annoyed redhead standing behind the table?"

Willow glared at her for a second, then said, "Why should I trust you?"

Daria shrugged. "I never said you had to. Whether you do or not is entirely up to you. I cam here to meet Buffy and discuss this Slaying job that seems to have fallen into my lap. That's it. I have no plans to hurt any of you. But those may change at a moment's notice. Depending on how irritated I get." She'd moved forward as she said it, until, at the end, she was staring directly into Willow's eyes from maybe three feet away. Willow returned her gaze with equal intensity.

"Whoa, back off, both of you," Buffy said, placing her arms between them and gently moving them aside. "Now. Daria. Do you think you can handle being a Slayer?"

"The way I understand it, it's not as though I really have a choice," Daria said. "The forces arranged against us are willing to pay assassins to come after me in prison, so it's pretty obvious there's nowhere to hide."

"Someone sent an assassin after you?" Daria explained what had happened -- Mrs. Krueger's attack, the Korean shapeshifter's intervention, and how she'd managed to defeat her.

"Not bad," Buffy said. "Listening like that. Very clever."

"I don't seem to have the instinct that you and Faith do -- did," Daria said. "I have to make up for it by thinking quickly and well."

"Especially good for someone with no training."

"Well, I wouldn't say _no_ training," Daria said. "I did have the echo."

"Yes," Giles said. "About this echo . . ."

"Oh, good," said a voice from the door. "I finally get to hear about this. She's been putting off telling me for days."

"And you would be?" Buffy asked.

"You didn't mention me? Daria. I'm hurt."

"Forgive me," Daria said. "Buffy Summers, Rupert Giles . . . Willow Rosenberg, this is my friend, sounding board, and occasional keeper, Dr. Lynette Vaughn."

X X X X X

It had taken Lynette Vaughn over five minutes after she dropped Daria off to find a parking spot and walk back to the store called the Magic Box. Once she got there, she had to shoulder her way through two young adults standing by the front door, trying desperately to look like they weren't eavesdropping.

Eventually, she said, "Excuse me," and they moved slightly, just enough to let her in, and she walked into the store just in time to hear Daria mention the echo. She spoke up, which led to introductions all the way around -- there was visible hostility between Daria and Willow Rosenberg.

"So," Lynette said after the introductions, "About that echo . . ."

"Right," Daria said. "This is kind of unusual --"

"Around here," Buffy said, "The unusual isn't unusual. Spill."

"Remember when I said it wasn't that I'd had no training? I got it in my dreams. For a while, it was Faith. Then, when she went away, I thought I'd be alone in that apartment --"

"Apartment?" Buffy asked.

"She said it was a place she went to a lot, in her dreams," Daria said.

"I've been there a couple of times myself," Buffy said.

"In any event, the next time I dreamed is when the echo showed up and told me that it was her turn to train me. The echo isn't my name for her; it's what she called herself."

Apparently interested despite her barely masked enmity towards Daria, Willow Rosenberg asked, "An echo of what?"

"Of Buffy," Daria said.

"Me?"

"That's how I recognized you," Daria said. "According to her, at least, she's a combination of Faith's perceptions of you and a small part of your consciousness left behind when you switched bodies, at one point."

"That is fascinating," Rupert Giles said.

"And convenient," Willow said.

"You're absolutely right," Daria said. "It is convenient. While I have Faith's muscle memory, that might not be enough. So the existence of the echo allowed me to at least undergo _some_ form of training. I'm not saying I'm ready to take on a horde of slavering vampires, but I think I can handle one or two."

"That sounds like a challenge to me," Buffy said calmly. Lynette was finding it hard to get a read on Buffy Summers; while she didn't come across as overtly hostile, she didn't seem to have accepted Daria yet, either.

Which meant, barring a major emergency, that it would be a while before they could reveal Faith's continued existence to these people.

"It wasn't intended to come across that way," Daria said. "I'm not overflowing with a sense of how wonderful I am. Really. Still, I'm not surprised you'd want to test me. Would you prefer I just take a swing at you, or were you thinking of something a bit more formal?"

Buffy said, "More formal. That's what we have the training room for."

And with that, the front door slammed open and the two people she'd had to force her way past to get inside the shop came in, and the young man said, "If you think we're missing this, you're nuts."

"Me too," a voice from somewhere ahead said, as a young woman with brown hair came up a set of stairs ahead of them. Willow Rosenberg was looking around, but apparently whoever she was looking for wasn't showing up.

"Let me see if I can guess," Daria said. "You're Xander, and you're Dawn, and you . . . I don't think Faith knew you."

"Anya," the young woman said as the other two nodded. Daria briefly introduced herself and Lynette.

Irritably, Buffy said, "I thought I told you to--"

"And since when do we ever do what you say?" Dawn asked.

"Giles," Buffy said pleadingly.

"I prefer to think of this as 'payment in kind,'" Rupert Giles said.

Lynette, of course, couldn't get a reading on Xander, Dawn or Anya yet. Their prime emotion at the moment appeared to be nosiness, but then they hadn't really had a real chance to interact with either her or Daria. Not that Lynette was concerned with what they felt about her. But she would have to keep monitoring everyone to see if Willow Rosenberg's hostility was shared by anyone else.

In the meantime, apparently, there was going to be a sparring contest.

X X X X X

It had taken Cameron Kim ten minutes or so to locate the car belonging to Dr. Lynette Vaughn then another three to find her own parking spot. For the moment, at least, she was 5'9", white, and thin, with blonde hair and green eyes. She wasn't overly gorgeous or overly ugly. She wanted to blend, not stand out.

She'd been keeping track of Daria Morgendorffer for three days, and until this morning she hadn't done anything even remotely suspicious. Mostly, she'd stayed in the hotel belong to Wolfram & Hart enemy Angel, with occasional trips out for books, clothes, and pizza. (The girl never seemed to eat anything _except _pizza.)

This morning, though, she and Dr. Vaughn had abruptly gotten in the psychiatrist's car and started driving. Cameron had nearly let them slip out of sight before she managed to catch up, and had trailed them at a non-suspicious distance all the way to Sunnydale.

She knew what was in Sunnydale, so she'd called Lilah Morgan. The attorney had said, "Hmmm. That's not exactly what we wanted to hear. See what she does. If she kills any vampires for any reason other than self-defense, call me back and we'll go from there."

Cameron had said she understood, and hung up.

Which left her where she was now, approaching the front of the store called The Magic Box. Unfortunately, there were two people huddled around the door, and Cameron, for the moment at least, didn't want to draw attention to herself. So she kept walking and went into the alley behind the store, where she found an open service door and, altering her ears to give herself better hearing, stopped to listen.

All she picked up was a conversation about a sparring match, then, a minute or so, a few sounds of combat.

Before she could hear anything else, she was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat and saying, "Pardon me, but you're in my spot."

Turning around, Cameron saw a pale-skinned creature who looked like a deformed Cardassian. "I don't see your name on it," she said.

"I was hoping not to have to resort to violence," the Cardassian said, pulling out a knife. "But if you force me to --"

"I was hoping the same thing," she said, who wasn't really all that fond of fighting but who was perfectly able to do it if she had to. "But I don't see any reason why we both can't listen in."

"If it was my choice, I would agree in a second. But the divine Glorificus told me to listen privately, and what the divine one wants, she gets."

"Who the hell is Glorificus?" Cameron asked.

The Cardassian couldn't have looked more offended if he'd tried. "Her magnificence is the most of mighty of powers! Do not interfere with her plan to return to her home dimension or it will go quite badly for you."

She said, "I work for Wolfram & Hart. Your 'mighty power' doesn't scare me."

The Cardassian simply came at her with the knife. The expression on his face when Cameron turned into the leopard was _hilarious_.

X X X X X

Speaking of the divine Glorificus, she was in her apartment, tapping her foot and feeling angry, yes, very angry indeed. "Send a minion out to do one simple job," she said. "Eavesdrop on the Slayer. Find out who the Key is. Kidnap them for me. Really. Is this asking too much?"

"No, divine --"

"It was a rhetorical question, dumbass," Glory said. "It looks like I'm just going to have to do this the hard way. Tomorrow, I think I'll start with that blonde witch. She seems new."

"And if it's not her, magnificence?"

The minions were loyal, but very stupid. "Then I'll drain her brain and move on to someone else. Do I have to spell _everything_ out for you people?"


	2. Willow Said, Ha!

Author's note: To specify, this fic begins one day before the events of the 5th season episode "Tough Love." So wackiness is about to ensue.

Disclaimer: The _Buffy_ characters belong to Joss Whedon, the _Daria_ character belongs to Glenn Eichler, and Lynette Vaughn and Cameron Kim are mine.

X X X X X

Buffy had been surprised at how hostile Willow had been to Daria, but maybe she shouldn't have been. She'd always been the least fond of Faith of any of them, and when she held grudges, she held onto them big-time.

Buffy herself was taking a wait-and-see attitude. She didn't think it was any kind of scam. Honestly, in a way, she was sorry Faith as Faith wasn't around any more. Finding out what she'd gone through -- well, it didn't completely let her off the hook for her actions, but it certainly gained her a tremendous amount of slack. If she'd gotten out as herself, it was possible they could have come to some kind of understanding.

She thought she'd told everyone about her attitude -- Daria Morgendorffer and Faith were two different people, no matter that they shared the same body -- and she was determined not to let her decidedly mixed feelings about Faith cloud her judgment of Daria.

Giles had been even surer, especially after a conversation with Wesley that had left Giles almost shaking with rage, partly at Wesley, mostly at the Council. Apparently they'd not only known about the split personality issue, they'd encouraged it -- why waste time curing a Slayer when their life spans tend to be at most a year or two anyway? Just patch her up and put her out on the streets.

Unfortunately, not everyone else was being as calm and rational about the situation, though, until today, Willow had only been suspicious, not outright hostile. Xander and Dawn had also been kind of on the skeptical side; Anya had mostly been concerned with the fact that Faith had slept with Xander at one point and assuming Daria would feel the same way; and Tara hadn't been concerned much at all. "It seems unfair to make a judgment without seeing her," she'd said. But it had clearly been a low enough priority to her that when Buffy had asked her to leave, she'd simply left.

This "Dr. Vaughn" was something of a mystery. She obviously knew about vamps and all of that, and just as obviously the knowledge didn't faze her all that much. Which put her one up in the mental toughness department on most of humanity. She was also about as tall as Giles, and probably heavier, though not much of it looked like fat. The way she was watching the fight, Buffy would have bet that the woman knew some kind of martial art as well. The ring on her left hand also told Buffy she was probably married, which made her wonder what she was doing on a road trip with Daria.

So far, the sparring match had been something of a formal one; after all, they weren't actually trying to beat the hell of each other, just give Buffy something of an idea of how good Daria would be as a Slayer.

And at this point, the answer was an admiring "not bad." If Buffy had needed more proof that Daria and Faith were completely different people, this would have provided it. Daria hadn't used any Faith-type maneuvers at all, and her fighting style was a lot more defensive. (She'd mentioned that she had Faith's muscle memory inside her, but she was obviously making a conscious effort not to use it. Smart move on her part.

For most of the combat so far, Daria had fought mostly defensively, doing her best to block Buffy's attacks, and only occasionally striking back. She'd even connected a couple of times.

And this wasn't Faith's style at all. Faith had been a scream-and-leap offensive fighter, going on the defensive only when she had no other choice. And it had worked for her. Daria was definitely more thoughtful about things. She seemed to be analyzing Buffy, looking for patterns, checking for weaknesses. Buffy rarely had to do that unless she was fighting something that couldn't be killed by normal methods of attack.

If Daria was telling the truth about her lack of instinct, this was probably the best way for her to go. And from all accounts, Daria Morgendorffer was _extremely_ intelligent. Maybe even as smart as Willow, though Buffy would never say that to Willow's face, especially under these circumstances.

Buffy thought she could have overwhelmed Daria with an all-out offensive, but held off, for the moment, anyway. The object was not to reduce Daria to a bloody smear on the wall.

So she decided to take another tack entirely. The next three times she threw a punch at Daria with her left hand, she dropped her guard slightly with her right arm. If Daria tried to take advantage of it, Buffy would have a surprise for the other Slayer.

X X X X X

Patterns. It was all about patterns. Spotting them, or the lack of them, was the key to how Daria was going to have to fight.

And so far, one thing was certain: Buffy Summers was no echo. The fighting style was similar, but the echo was a good deal more mechanical, and Buffy was even faster.

Of course, that only made sense, since the echo was simply a fragment of Daria's imagination, and the real Buffy had had over a year to hone her combat skills even further.

Which was why she'd spent most of the first five minutes or so of their melee letting Buffy do most of the attacking, seeing if there were any patterns she could take advantage of, or any other weaknesses.

So far, there weren't any. Which made her, as Daria had expected, an exceptionally dangerous combatant, and definitely better at this than Daria. But again, that was what Daria had expected. There had been openings, and Daria had taken advantage of some of them, just to prove she could. Had this been a full-fledged battle rather than the mere test it was, she would have taken advantage of more of them -- assuming, of course, that they would have presented themselves. Buffy was much better than she was -- not completely out of her league, but at opposite ends of that league, at least at the moment.

Which was one of the things that made this sudden pattern -- Buffy had dropped her guard slightly three, now four, times in a row, when she threw a punch with her left hand -- so suspicious. It seemed apparent to Daria that Buffy was setting up a trap of some sort.

So she decided to fall into it -- or, at least, to pretend to. The next time Buffy lowered her right arm a little, Daria feinted a punch with her own left hand. From the slight smile on Buffy's face, Daria knew she'd been right. Buffy quickly reached for the Daria's anticipated blow, presumably with an eye towards tossing her over her shoulder, but that blow never fell. Instead, Daria jerked her left arm back and jabbed quickly with her _right_ hand, catching Buffy on the shoulder while her hands grabbed at empty air.

Before Buffy could recover, Daria ducked under Buffy's grasping arms and threw her full weight into Buffy's chest, and knocked her to the mat.

Buffy looked up at Daria with a mixture of surprise and admiration on her face. Around the room, the expressions ranged from pleasure (Dr. Vaughn) to surprise (Giles, Xander) to amusement (Anya) to irritation and anger (Willow and Dawn). Daria stepped backward while Buffy regained her feet. "Not bad at _all,_" Buffy said. "I especially like how you didn't use any of Faith's moves."

"I'm perfectly capable of doing so, if you spot me a few seconds to concentrate," Daria said. "But it was pointed out to me at great length that I might not always have that luxury. Consequently, I've had to develop my own style. I realize I still have a lot to learn."

"And were you planning on learning it?" Giles asked. "You've been forced into the recognition of who you are and what your destiny is rather more suddenly than most other Slayers -- and with the added disadvantage of having already having made many enemies, along the way."

"Some of whom appear to be right here in this room," Daria said wryly. "To answer your question: Have you ever heard the story of Kitty Genovese?"

Giles, Willow, and Anya nodded. At Giles' obvious surprise, Anya said grimly, "I took vengeance for that one. Not on the man who raped and murdered her but on the people who stood by and listened to her die. The wish was that they would die miserable and alone. So far, so good."

Daria knew, dimly, from Angel and Cordelia, that Anya was a former demon, but somehow she'd forgotten that until this moment. The only thing she could think to say in response is, "Good. Anyway, I can't do that. I may not be overflowing with love for all mankind, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let someone be hurt or killed when there's something I could have done to directly prevent it." She looked directly at Giles. "So the answer is yes, I plan on learning it. I may be more reactive than proactive, but this is going to form a large part of my life, whether I want it to or not." She took a deep breath. "Which I why I was hoping you would help me improve my fighting skills even further -- and possibly help me learn how to tell the various supernatural creatures apart. Faith told me that not everything that looks demonic turns out to be a bad guy. I'd like to be able to tell one from the other."

"Certainly," Giles said, "Although right now is a poor time to begin any training. We're fighting a hellgod named Glory and figuring out a way to stop her from getting what she wants is, understandably, our top priority."

"Of course," Daria said. "I wasn't expecting you to drop everything. In any event, I should have suspected something horrendous was occurring. I've been informed that apocalypses usually tend to happen in May, and here we are, right on schedule."

Buffy said, "Would you -- what's that?"

"What's what, Buff?" Xander asked.

"You don't hear anything?" Everyone said no. "Daria?"

Daria was about to say no as well, when she stopped. Closing her eyes, she concentrated and said, "Yes. In _that_ direction," pointing towards a wall. "There's a fight going on."

Buffy ran out the door of the makeshift gymnasium, and Daria followed her; after a half second, so did everyone else.

Then they heard a scream.

X X X X X

The "deformed Cardassian" was a bit tougher than Cameron Kim had thought he would be, though that she wasn't particularly fond of fighting or killing might have also had something to do with it. Still, in a fight between a skinny dude with a knife and a shapeshifter, 99 times out of 100 the skinny dude's going to lose.

Still, it took her about five minutes -- during which no one noticed the leopard and the gray-skinned gnome fighting, in plain sight, in broad daylight, what the hell was wrong with this town -- and she got cut a couple of times. Nothing serious, but enough to draw blood. And the second time was all she could take. She leapt at his throat and ripped it out before he could take another swing.

Damn it. Even if the bastard had attacked her first, she still hated to have had to do that. Still, it had obviously been her or him, and that was no choice at all.

Before Cameron could change back into her human form, someone came into the alley from the same place Cameron had entered it and said, "What --"

Cameron whirled and saw a woman there. She couldn't be caught, but this woman hadn't done anything to her and Cameron wasn't being paid to assault random strangers on the street. She leapt past her -- the woman screamed -- and ran down the street.

Even the most jaded or clueless person couldn't fail to notice a leopard running down the middle of the street. Cameron quickly ran into the nearest other alley she could find, changed back into the redhead, and ran out the other side of the alley screaming about the leopard.

Not clever, exactly, but it worked.

Now to get back to spying on Daria Morgendorffer.

X X X X X

Dr. Lynette Vaughn followed Daria outside, to find a pasty-faced creature with its throat ripped out, and a young blonde woman, who'd apparently been the one who'd screamed. Willow Rosenberg ran up to her saying, "Sweetie? Are you okay? What happened?" as Buffy and Rupert Giles went over to examine the pasty-faced creature. Tara must have been who Willow had been looking for earlier. Dr. Vaughn looked at the woman, but she seemed shaken, not injured.

"Whoever did this was doing us a favor," Buffy said.

"Or it was two creatures, one alley," Daria said. "

"These are the minions of that hellgod we were talking about," Buffy said. "If he was here, it wasn't to bring us Girl Scout cookies."

"Ah. Still, that doesn't mean his killer was one of the good guys," Daria said.

"Agreed. Did you see anything, Tara?"

"It was a leopard," Tara said.

"A leopard?" Daria asked. She seemed worried -- of course.

"This means something to you?" Giles asked.

Daria said, "Remember the Korean woman who assisted me when the assassin attacked? In the fight in my cell, she took the form of a leopard." Then, more thoughtfully, "But why would she be following me?"

"Could be just a coincidence," Xander said. "You know, there has to more than one person out there who can change into a leopard."

"Coincidence and leprechauns, Xander," Buffy said. At Daria and Lynette's confused look, she said "It's a long story."

"They're the two things Buffy doesn't believe in," Dawn said.

"Okay, not that long," Buffy said. The exchange had the air of a running joke. "Anyway, she did help us, so I'm inclined to worry about the whys later --"

"I don't think we need to speculate about the why either," Lynette said. "Assuming this was the same shapeshifter as before, she could have only been here to spy on Daria. And this 'minion,' as you call him, was clearly here to spy on you. It was simply a matter of which spy was tougher."

"I'm, I'm sorry," Tara said. "I don't think we've met, and --"

"I'm Lynette Vaughn," Lynette said. "I'm a friend of Daria's."

"And I would be Daria," Daria said. "In case you've never met me before."

"Not you as you," Tara said. "I met you, her, when you were in Buffy's body, and --" Tara suddenly stopped. "That's weird."

"What's weird?" Willow asked.

"She's got two auras," she said, pointing to Daria. "It takes two people to have two auras."

"Two?" Buffy said. "How is that --" She looked at Daria. "Okay. Spill." Her tone had gotten a lot colder.

Daria told Lynette, "I think we're going to have to tell them now."

"Are you sure?"

Daria looked at everyone's faces, and so did Lynette. She was right; it seemed like the best course of action. "Okay," Daria said. "I'm going to say four words that might upset you. Please try not to overreact until you hear the full story." To Lynette: "Make sure they hear the full story."

"I will," Lynette promised, hoping she'd get the chance.

"And those four words are?" Buffy asked.

Sighing, Daria said, "Give us a kiss."

The tension in the alley, already high, ratcheted up to a near-critical level as the young woman in front of her suddenly changed noticeably. Her eyes found Lynette's and she said, "Hey doc. Guess we didn't get to those 'optimum circumstances,' huh?"

Buffy said, "Faith."

Faith said, "Hey, B. Miss me?"

Willow said, "Ha!"


	3. What She Did

Disclaimer: Joss owns the _Buffy_ characters, Glenn Eichler owns Daria, and I own Dr. Lynette Vaughn. There is some minor dialogue borrowing in this chapter from "Tough Love."

X X X X X

"I knew it!" Willow said. "I _knew _this was a scam."

"Yeah, some scam we're runnin' here, Red. It's gotta be what, maybe an hour or so after you and DM've met and here we are showin' you I'm still around," Faith said. "We're friggin' geniuses." They all seemed kinda pissed, but they weren't acting like they were gonna pound Faith right that second. Any luck, this could still work.

"I can't believe I fell for it," B said.

The doc said, "You didn't fall for anything. Daria's a separate person. We were going to wait for the right time to tell you -- after you'd gotten used to Daria. All the fight did was accelerate our timetable."

"And we're supposed to believe you why?" B asked.

The answer came from a place Faith hadn't been expecting. "You could, could believe me," Tara said, raising her hand. "I said it takes two people to have two auras. There are definitely two people in there -- and one's definitely lighter than the other one. No offense, Faith, but yours is still kind of, you know, dark --"

"Representin' all the evil I did. Yeah. Well, I'm plannin' on it gettin' lighter."

"Oh," Tara said. "It, it already has. Gotten lighter."

Faith smiled. "Thanks. By the way, just so you know, sorry about all those cheap shots I took at you back when I was in charge of B's body. I was just bein' a bitch."

"Yes, you were," Tara said. "But, apology accepted."

Willow looked at Tara like her girl'd just sprouted wings. "Sweetie, and I say this love, but are you insane?"

"As a qualified psychiatrist," the doc said. "I'd say no."

Willow walked over to the doc and, getting up in her face, said, "You think that's funny. Do you know what this woman _did_ to us?"

She was getting a bit too close for Faith's comfort, so she moved next to Dr. Vaughn and said, "Step back, Red."

"Or what?" Willow said. "You'll shoot me with a poisoned arrow?"

Faith said, "No. I'll leave. DM and me came down here to see whether you'd accept me -- she wants some training, too, 'cause she's gone beyond what I can do and I ain't really a teachin' type anyway. But if you're all gonna be like this, I'm happy to walk away."

The Doc held out a hand. "Faith. Don't." Then she turned to Willow. "You asked if I knew what this woman did to you?" Willow nodded angrily. "Okay, then. I'll tell you. She came to Sunnydale, lied about her Watcher's death because she was on the run from a huge vampire named, I think, Kakistos. Then she stayed here, even though Miss Summers hid that her vampire boyfriend was still alive -- Angel says hello, by the way -- and she was understandably mad at having been deceived. Then Miss Summers and Faith got closer until a stupid mistake cost the Deputy Mayor of Sunnydale his life. This sent Faith over the edge, and she joined the corrupt Mayor of Sunnydale -- a man I would cheerfully strangle, if he were still alive, for what he did to Faith's psyche -- in his evil plot to become a demon, along the way kidnapping Miss Rosenberg and killing a scientist. Then, to distract Miss Summers, she shot Angel with a poisoned arrow, and in the ensuing fight got stabbed and jumped off a roof. When she became conscious again nine months later, she held Miss Summers' mother hostage and swapped bodies with her, during which she slept with Buffy's boyfriend and insulted Tara, among other things, but she couldn't let a church full of people die. Then she left Sunnydale, tried to arrange a suicide by vampire, and, after you came up there to warn Angel, turned herself in to the police on two counts of murder. Oh, and she slept with Mr. Harris over there, once. So. Do I understand what this woman did to you?"

"Better than I do, apparently," B said.

"Good," the Doc said. "So I don't want to hear that again. I know how badly Faith treated you in the past. I also know that Daria isn't Faith, and that Faith is tremendously repentant for everything she did to all of you."

"Well, except for the sleeping with Xander part," Faith said. "Yeah. I'm sorry for tossin' you out when it was over, but not for doin' it in the first place."

"You'd better not try it again," Anya said.

"Wasn't plannin' on it. He's taken, and DM and me got a deal that I don't get to go around sleepin' with whoever I want anymore. It ain't her style." They had to compromise, and hell, Faith didn't even mind doing a bit more of the compromising. It was DM's life before it was hers. Hell, far as DM was concerned, she was still a virgin and had no plans to change that.

Faith was thinking about maybe letting her deal with the hungry and horny that came after the Slaying and seeing how much her willpower held out then, but otherwise she was going to live up to her end of the bargain.

Anya said, "Good."

"Anyway," Faith said. "I realize a sorry ain't enough, but it's all I got to offer at the moment, unless you got some Big Bad that needs takin' down."

"You're right that it's not enough," B said.

"Damn right," Dawn said.

"Anyway," Xander said mildly. "Aren't you supposed to be nonexistent right about now?"

"Yeah. If there's any scam goin' on, it was that one," Faith said. "The Doc and DM and I cooked it up when everyone else seemed to want me gone permanently."

Willow said, "So all three of you got together to make sure you got out of jail."

"For someone who's so proud of her brains, you seem to get a whole lot wrong," Faith said. "If it were up to me I'd still be in that jail servin' out my sentence. I didn't agree with this for me; I did it for Daria. She deserved to be out -- and she wouldn't leave without me. No matter what the hell anyone else said."

Giles said, "All right. I think I've heard enough at the moment." He looked at the Doc. "Before Daria became Faith, she said there was a story behind all of this. I believe I would like to hear all of that story."

"Yeah, I think I'd like to hear that too," B said.

"Okay then," the doc said. "But let's get inside. I've heard stories about the legendary incompetence of the Sunnydale Police Department but I'd still not like to be hanging around a corpse on the off chance this is the day one of them decides to show some initiative."

B looked at Faith. "So, you take one end, I'll take the other, and I'll dump it later tonight?"

"Works for me," Faith said, and they took the critter inside.

X X X X X

They lugged the minion's corpse inside and dumped it in a corner of the training room, with Giles protesting mildly about the mats. Then they went out around and locked the doors to avoid dueling eavesdroppers again, and then they all moved out to the main part of the shop, where Dr. Vaughn began to tell the entire story, punctuated occasionally by Faith explaining something in greater detail.

During the talk, she noticed something. This woman was devoted to Faith -- and by extension Daria -- and this despite clearly knowing exactly what Faith had done. Of course, Angel had also been protective, even willing to fight Buffy over it to give Faith her shot at redemption, no matter strongly Buffy had made the case otherwise.

And she'd been wrong. She had been out of balance, flying solely on her emotions, and she'd wanted Faith dead, even when there hadn't been a good reason to make it so. Faith hadn't attacked her when she'd come to LA, not even when Buffy had given her every excuse. Was it understandable that Buffy had wanted revenge? Sure. That didn't mean she'd been right.

Mostly, at this point, it was the deception that pissed her off more than anything else. She'd been kind of sad when Anya and Tara had told her what they'd heard on the radio -- about how Daria's aunt and the LA DA's office had basically said that the only way Daria was going to get out was over Faith's dead mind. There was definitely still anger at everything Faith had done to her, to her friends, and to her family. But she was also tremendously sympathetic -- especially after finding out that Faith's 'childhood' had been more traumatic than Buffy could have possibly imagined.

Her 'father' had been a spree killer. Given that, it was no wonder she'd latched on to Mayor Wilkins.

On an intellectual level, Buffy even understood why Daria and Dr. Vaughn had kept the truth from them -- and it wasn't like they'd hesitated to tell them when they had to.

The emotional level, of course, was different, because all of that anger was still there. Part of her -- the part that wasn't in charge but kept whispering paranoid things in her ear -- still thought that Faith was here to do horrible things to her and hers. So far, she'd kept that part of her in check. If Faith had changed, Buffy felt she owed her that chance. Hell, she'd given _Spike_ a chance. It seemed unfair not to do the same thing for Faith.

Besides, there was always Willow to provide the paranoia. Everyone else, even Dawn and Anya, was at least doing their best to listen politely. Willow, though, looked like it was taking every bit of energy she had to avoid rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically.

So be it. They'd need to talk about this without having Daria, Faith or Dr. Vaughn around, so Willow would get her chance to piss and moan then.

Dr. Vaughn's story, by and large, was filling in the blanks of what Buffy already knew, or had guessed: "I'm giving you information that's normally protected by doctor-patient confidentiality. Obviously, though, I have the patient's permission to do this. Both of them." It occurred to Buffy that Dr. Vaughn was giving them enough rope to hang Daria, Faith, and herself as well, if they wanted to. Letting Faiths' continued existence out of the bag to the right people in Los Angeles could get her tossed back in jail. Revealing to the wrong people could get her killed.

That, perversely, was enough to make Buffy, at least cautiously, trust them. Sure, it could still have been part of some big plot, but Faith wasn't in for the big twisty modes of revenge; she'd have just come down here and started pounding people. And Lynette Vaughn was no Richard Wilkins.

Still, Buffy should probably have Willow -- no, _Dawn­ -- _double-check the psychiatrist's background to see if she could find anything. Dawn wasn't the hacker Will was -- few people were -- but she knew her way around a search engine, and she wasn't nearly as likely to try to find reasons to hate the woman as Willow was.

The psychiatrist was done. There was silence in the room for about thirty seconds; then Faith said, "Look. It's clear you guys have some jawin' to do and you ain't gonna wanna do it with me in the room. So, Doc, let's you and me get goin' for a bit while they hash it out. We're at the Holiday Inn --" Several steps up from the last place she lived in Sunnydale; but then, Spike's crypt was several steps up from the last place Faith lived in Sunnydale -- "room 217, if you want to find us. Otherwise, we'll drop by tomorrow to see what's up. See you around. Uranium in the drinking water."

Buffy was confused -- so was everyone else -- until she saw Faith straighten up and say, in the near-monotone Daria used, "I see neither Dr. Vaughn is myself is deceased, or indeed, even badly bruised. May I assume we've managed to skip over the cliché of the heroes beating each other to a pulp and moved right to a détente?"

"Not a détente," Giles said. "But a cease fire, at any rate."

"Good. I wasn't looking forward to a gratuitous display of violence."

"Not gonna be one now," Buffy said. "But watch this space for further developments."

Daria nodded to each of them. Something else Buffy had noticed: Daria was not, in the least, a physical person. Except for the sparring match, she hadn't touched anyone since coming into the store, including Dr. Vaughn. She hadn't shaken hands with Buffy when she came in, and she wasn't offering to do so as she left.

Anyway, after she nodded, she and the psychiatrist left the store.

Before the door was even completely shut, Buffy turned to Willow and said, "I already know where you stand. I'd appreciate it if you waited until everyone else was done before you start explaining reasons why we need to have them both murdered in their sleep."

"They don't have to be asleep," Willow muttered.

"So?" Buffy prompted. Of course, they all began speaking at once.

The upshot was that Giles, Buffy, and, to Willow's disappointment, Tara all seemed perfectly willing to give Faith a chance, while Xander, Dawn and Anya were kind of iffy, and everyone already knew what Willow thought

"That's 4-3, Buffy," Dawn said when the conversation seemed to have wound down.

"Yeah, well, good thing this isn't a democracy then," Buffy said. "I'm willing to give her a shot, Giles is willing to help Daria train, and the ret of you don't have to be around her. I'm not saying I'm her best friend. But if she is planning something, best to keep her close by, and if she isn't, well, _especially _ under the circumstances I'm happy to have her here. In case you've forgotten, there's a homicidal hellgod out there who wants to kill D awn. We'd be crazy to casually turn away _anyone_ who could help us with that. If Lex Luthor dropped by I'd see if _he'd_ help us." There were mildly discontented looks on some faces, but Buffy didn't care. "Good!" She said chipperly. "I knew you'd all see it my way."

As the meeting broke up, Buffy caught Dawn and asked her to look up Dr. Vaughn, like she'd planned.

Willow and Tara were arguing the whole way out of the store.

X X X X X

So, the next morning, after Ben got himself gone again -- _God_, she'd be glad when she got home and was free of this useless bag of human flesh she'd been shackled to for the last 25 years -- Glory went out to look for the Slayer's little blonde witch.

She could have just marched up to that ridiculous school they all went to and started ripping off doors or people's arms until someone told her where she was, but that would bring her a little too much attention of the bad kind. Plus, it would be _murder_ on her feet, and she wasn't putting aside these heels for anyone. Not that she couldn't handle the attention -- c'mon, only the Slayer in this entire stinking town had been even a vague challenge. Still, if she killed too many people it would just be too much of a distraction, and here when getting home was almost in her grasp. She could just taste it.

So she'd had to tell her minions to go scope out the town to see if they could find the little witch -- yeah, the one she'd sent out yesterday hadn't come back, but she couldn't be everywhere at once no matter how fast she ran, and since Doc was handling the magic aspect of her big comeback he was too busy to help, so she had to rely on the filthy, stupid creatures.

Finally one of them ran up to her and she'd seen the blonde witch at some kind of outdoor festival. It was all working out! And about damn time, too.

She found the festival and there the witch was, sitting alone on a bench. She sat down next to her, grabbed her hand, and said, "Is this seat taken?"

The witch said, "Ah --"

"Don't make a sound," Glory said, squeezing her hand hard just to make sure the girl knew she meant it. She whimpered a little bit, but didn't talk. Good enough. Glory looked at the other people at the festival and said, "Naah. They won't help you. I'd kill them. You know that."

The girl frantically looked around, then stopped for a second, then kept looking. Whatever. "There's no one here who can stop me," Glory said.

And that's when someone hit her in the back of the head.


	4. Watchmen

Author's Note: Yup, it's time once again for fun with timejumping. Also, I'm not going to bother going too thoroughly over those parts of Tough Love that haven't changed, which is most of it, up to a point.

Also: I use a narrative technique called third-person shifting viewpoint -- I've used it for the vast majority of the stories I've done. Briefly, this means that we only get to see one person's viewpoint at a time -- but that the narration should sound like the character. So Faith calls Buffy "B" and Lynette Vaughn "the doc," while Daria refers to them as "Buffy" and "Dr. Vaughn," even when they're not actually conversing.

It was pointed out to me that some people think the "B" in Faith's narration was jarring. I don't see why.

Disclaimer: The _Buffy_ characters are the property of Joss Whedon, the _Daria_ characters are the property of Glenn Eichler, and the original characters are mine.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim, unfortunately, hadn't been able to get back to a position where she could conveniently hear what was going on inside the magic shop -- and not enough time to find an inconvenient place. They had understandably closed and locked the doors, and while Cameron could improve her hearing (only when she was in human form, unfortunately), she wasn't quite able to boost it to the point where she could hear directly through walls. Sure, those at the front of the store were thinner, but she couldn't stand there for too long without being noticeable.

So she had to settle for looking into the windows as she passed by. While she'd be able to see Dr. Vaughn and Daria Morgendorffer leave the building, she really couldn't get a sense of what was going on, beyond it being some kind of discussion, mostly being led by Dr. Vaughn.

When they left, Cameron was tempted to stick around see the follow-up, but that wasn't her job and she didn't want to risk losing track of them.

That meant she got to spend the afternoon going to a bookstore, then an art gallery, and then a restaurant before heading back to the hotel they were all staying at. Wolfram & Hart connections had managed to snag her the adjacent room, but she couldn't hear through these walls either. At least she'd know when they were coming and going.

It would be a while before she managed to get to sleep -- Slayers kept late nights, if Daria Morgendorffer was still interested in being one. Maybe she'd just come down to tell Buffy Summers that she wasn't going to do it. Ah well. Not her job to speculate.

If Daria Morgendorffer left the hotel room for more than the length of time it took to get to the vending machine and back, she went out the window or through the ceiling and made no noise doing it. Not likely, to say the least.

While she waited, she called in with her daily report. As soon as she mentioned the name Glorificus, Lilah screamed "What!" so loudly that Cameron had to drop the phone.

"Glorificus," she repeated. "Son of a bitch. I thought she'd been neutralized years go."

"Not if the minion was telling the truth," Cameron said. "He wanted the same prime listening post I'd snagged and wouldn't take 'I'm willing to share' as an answer. I didn't get a chance to grill him -- he was too busy trying to threaten me beforehand, and afterwards he was dead, but I got the impression there was this big plot 'The Divine Glorificus' had --"

"The only plot 'The Divine Glorificus' has any interest in is heading back to her home dimension."

"So let her go," Cameron said.

"If all it involved was opening up a gateway and stepping through, we'd be thrilled to let her do exactly that," Lilah said. "But the gateway that lets her through in one direction is going to let all kinds of hell loose and in the other. And yeah, we like hell here at Wolfram & Hart. Just not that particular brand of hell. It wouldn't do us any good at all."

To Cameron's way of thinking, evil was evil, but then, she never really paid attentions to the machinations of her superiors. They ordered, she obeyed. The reasons why she didn't care about except so far as they affected her ability to her job. She said, "So, what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to keep an eye on this Glorificus situation as well. If -- and _only_ if -- it looks like she's ready to make her move to head home, I want you to do everything you can to stop that from happening, up to and including revealing your existence to the Slayers and their friends."

Cameron was surprised, but didn't let it show. "Understood. Should I be expecting anyone else to join me?"

Lilah said, "Not at the moment. If things start going to hell, literally, maybe. But we might not have the time. Until that happens, the other assignment still holds."

Cameron then listened to Lilah describe "the Divine Glorificus' and what she was capable of, said she understood, and hung up.

Damn. A routine, if long, assignment had just turned into something with a very real risk of killing her.

Ah well. That's why she got paid.

X X X X X

Faith came to in the hotel that night, with half a large pepperoni pizza in front of her. "What's with the snack, Doc?"

"Daria figured you hadn't eaten anything, and you might enjoy the experience. Also, she thought you might want a chance to get out and 'shake the cobwebs loose,' given that you haven't had the chance to Slay anything in a while."

Picking up a slice, Faith said between bites, "Sweet. Really. But this is B's turf, and while she seemed willin' enough to play nice I don't wanna take the risk of pissin' her off by playin' in her sandbox, at least not without lettin' her know I'm out there. I'm even thinkin' I'd better hole up for the night unless I hear someone screamin' in the parking lot. She finished the first piece and picked up another. When she was done the third, she said, "So, since I ain't gonna be killin' anything tonight, I think I'd better head back inside for awhile. Stayin' cooped up might be the best thing for me, but I think DM's better at actually dealin' with it."

"You could always read or watch TV," the doc said.

"Not in the mood for TV," she said. "I'm years behind. And while I might've picked up a taste for reading in the joint, we kinda didn't bring anything I liked with us."

"Daria noticed that," the doc said. "So she picked you up something at the bookstore this afternoon." She handed her a large paperback called _Watchmen_.

Faith opened it and broke into a wide grin. "Ain't that a kick in the head. DM picked me up a comic book."

The doc smiled too. "I've read that one myself, and Daria said she loved it too. She said after you start reading it she might like to talk it over with you when you get the chance."

"Hmm. I wouldn't'a pegged DM for a comics fan."

She read it until it was time to fall asleep.

She and DM _did_ talk about it their dreams, that night. And damn. It _was_ good.

The echo took the night off, thank goodness.

X X X X X

Will and Tara babysat Dawn while Buffy went out for patrol that night -- a patrol which netted her exactly zero vampires. When she got home, the two witches left separately.

"They didn't say a word to each other the entire time," Dawn said. "One of them studied while the other one helped me, and then they switched off. They were like that the whole night."

The worry was obvious in Dawn's tone, not that Buffy didn't feel the same way. She'd never seen Will and Tara in the middle of a major fight like this.

"They'll get over it," Buffy said confidently, hoping like hell that Will and Tara didn't split up over_ Faith_, of all things. Buffy would suffer some major guilt trips if that happened. Not that that would change her mind about Faith and Daria. She wasn't going to throw them to the wolves just because Willow was having a major hissy fit.

"I hope so," Dawn said.

"Do you blame me for this?"

Dawn looked at her like she was crazy. "God, Buffy, what am I, ten? I don't like your choice -- I don't trust Faith as far as I can throw her, and while I don't think this is a scam I just don't like having her around -- but it's your choice, not mine. You're not forcing me to spend time with Faith or Daria -- you're not, are you?"

"No," Buffy said. "I'd like it if you gave them more of a chance, but I'm not going to ram her down your throat."

"I'll think about it," Dawn said, seeming to mean it. "Anyway, you're not forcing me, and you're not forcing Willow, either. So it's mostly on her." Then, glaring at Buffy, she said, "But I may throw a fit or two later. You never know with me."

With effort, Buffy stopped herself from rolling her eyes. Dealing with Dawn could be a headache sometimes, and that wasn't counting the trivial matter of Glory wanting to kill her, either. Some days she'd act more mature than Buffy, and some days she'd act, well, ten.

Still, it was a headache she wanted for as long as possible. "Yeah, yeah," she said. "Bed." Dawn stuck out her tongue as she headed upstairs.

The next day was chock full of fun and excitement. By which Buffy meant, no fun and no excitement at all. Not only didn't she have time to call Faith or Daria, she didn't have time to ask Giles to do it either until the day was more than half over.

First she had to drop out of college. Then she had to deal with evidence of Dawn's having skipped school. Grr! Then, after a quick stop off at the Magic Box -- where she asked Giles to call Daria and explain what they'd decided -- they went home, and that's when she hit the roof.

She had to spell out to Dawn in no uncertain terms the very real possibility of some government agency separating them -- something Dawn had never even considered.

That was topped off by what happened with Tara. Will called her frantically, and through the panicky Willow-babble Buffy was able to piece together what had happened.

The fight between Will and Tara had simmered most of the day, but a casual remark earlier that afternoon had led to a real blow-out that had involved, among other things, Will and Tara's comparative magic experience, Willow's lesbianism, and why Tara didn't believe Will when she told her Faith was still evil -- always had been, always would be. Then she'd told Tara to go to the damn world culture fair by herself.

And then they'd caught the minion snooping around, who'd told them that Glory had already captured Tara -- and that she hadn't been at the World Culture Fair when Willow had searched it, but that there _had _ been signs of a struggle, and --

"Calm down," Buffy said, not feeling all that calm herself right now. "We'll find her. Have you checked everywhere?"

"Yes! She wasn't at the fair, the Magic Box, the coffee place, nowhere!"

"Have you been back to your dorm room?"

"No! Maybe she's there!" And she abruptly hung up the phone.

Okay, this was it. Kidnapping Spike was bad enough. Kidnapping Tara was a whole new level of badness.

They'd find her.

They _would_.

X X X X X

Daria had enjoyed the conversation she'd had with Faith over _Watchmen_. She'd been trying to find something else to talk about with her in their shared dreamtime besides Slaying and the day's experiences, and this seemed like a good place to start. Again, while normally Faith wasn't someone she would have chosen for a friend, these were hardly normal circumstances. It was important to Daria that they find common ground. To an extent, Faith deserved her own life -- that extent stopping at seducing random good-looking men and having sex with them, because honestly, Daria wasn't ready for that, no matter that Faith had been using her body that way for two years.

Faith had been accommodating, to the point that Daria was starting to feel guilty about making so many demands. "Um. Well," she'd said. "We don't _have_ to do everything my way."

Faith had just laughed and said, "DM. Chill. It's your life more than mine -- and you're already givin' more than I can ever give back. First, you're dealin' with all this vampire slayer stuff -- a lot better than most people do."

"I had a while to get used to it. Go on."

"Second, you and the doc brought me back. It would've been a lot easier for you to just say fuck it, and leave me buried in your head. You didn't. You went to the mat for me, DM. I owe you my life. You askin' me to ease up a bit on the fashion statements and sex is small potatoes. If I gotta be a do-it-yourselfer for a while, I can deal."

Daria hadn't wanted to think about that, either. Still didn't. Their attitudes towards sex underscored the difference between them. Daria, while not opposed to it in principle, would be waiting for the right time, with someone who had, yes, a brain. That left out 99.5 of the males on the planet. Most of the females, too, though her tastes had never run in that direction. Faith, on the other hand, used sex as a weapon, as a release, and apparently, at times, just because she enjoyed it.

They settled these issues at night. Every night, they met in the apartment. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sparred. There really wasn't much else they could do together. Sometimes the echo showed up, usually to be a third party to sparring to give Faith or Daria some two-on-one practice.

In the weeks between Faith's disappearance and reemergence, Daria had almost begun to believe that Faith _was_ the echo. Faith had found this tremendously entertaining. "I've already been B once," she'd said. "I got no need to do it again. Besides, I think I could do a better B than that now."

"I'm standing right here," the echo had said.

"Yeah, I see you," Faith had responded.

It was weird, but they were making do. "Two and a half personalities," the echo had said with a wry grin. "In the annals of uniqueness that has to be one of the uniquest."

"Right up there with the world's biggest ball of twine," Daria had said. "I feel special. Faith, do you feel special?"

"I always feel special."

Daria presumed that Dr. Vaughn would want to try to figure out where the echo had come from, and whether it represented a third personality. Somehow, Daria doubted that Dr. Vaughn would take the echo's word that it didn't really exist.

Although actually seeing that happen would have been worth cracking half a smile. No. Make that a whole smile.

She spent the day walking around Sunnydale -- walking around Highland had been the only exercise she got, and while her body had definitely changed since then, she still enjoyed it.

Dr. Vaughn walked with her until after lunch, when she went back to hotel to call her husband, who was doing studio work for _Jill of the Forest_ -- whose first episode was due to premiere next month, and Daria had promised Dr, Vaughn she'd watch her husband's show.

The art gallery was worth a second look, so Daria headed there when Dr. Vaughn departed. It was hosting an exhibition by an artist from the east coast who did some really creepy work.

Daria meant that as a compliment. There were sculptures, paintings, and photographs -- there was even a sculpture called _Sick, Sad World_. She couldn't believe the show with that name was still on the air, but last night, before she'd turned her body over to Faith, there it had been: "He calls balls and strikes -- and turns into a bat! The vampire umpire, next on _Sick, Sad World_."

Of course, it was entirely possible that they weren't kidding. At least, not about the vampire part. It was a little harder to mock a show like that when you found out that at least a small part of it was actually based on the real world.

Not that that would stop her, of course.

She made a mental note of the artist's name before she left the gallery, in case she ever saw any more of her work.

Then she walked around town and decided to amuse herself at something called a World Culture Fair. Interested to see if they were making an effort, or, more likely, having their Mexico exhibit be tacos, sombreros, and Tequila, their Italy exhibit be spaghetti and the Pope, and their Australia exhibit be kangaroos, boomerangs, and Paul Hogan, she wandered over.

Before she had the chance to really start looking, though, she saw Tara, from behind. A woman was just sitting down to talk to her --

From the expression on Tara's face, it wasn't a pleasant conversation. She was scared to death. Buffy'd mentioned something about a hellgod, but in the tumult of the moment she'd never gotten the details.

Slowly, Daria began to walk up. Tara was frantically looking around the area; for a fraction of a second their eyes met, and Tara's were clearly begging for help. No wonder; her unwanted companion was clearly squeezing her hand hard enough to hurt.

There was no time to call Faith up, or even access her muscle memory. There was no time for anything but a quick strike.

Daria ran quickly towards the bench and struck the woman in the back of the head, with both hands, as hard as she could.

She let Tara go -- quickly, Daria pulled her over the bench -- but wasn't more than momentarily inconvenienced by the blow. Standing up, and whirling around, she looked at Daria and said, "Bitch! You messed up my hair!"

Then she advanced towards them, picking up the bench and throwing it out of the ay.

See. This is what happens when you don't have time to think things over.


	5. Paint It Black

Disclaimer: The _Buffy, Daria_ and original characters are owned by Joss Whedon, Glenn Eichler, and me, respectively.

X X X X X

The divine Glorificus couldn't believe it. There she was, about to take possession of her Key, her hair perfect, and then _someone _comes along and hits her in the back of the head, almost hard enough that it hurt a little. Almost. It did surprise her enough that she let go of the witch.

But when she turned around, she didn't see who she thought she was going to see. She'd been expecting the Slayer, because really, who else in this putrid hellhole of a town was dumb enough to attack _her_?

But it wasn't the Slayer. It was some mousy brown-haired chica who she'd never seen before. "Bitch!" she yelled. "You messed up my hair!" Then, because the witch and the brown-haired girl were backing up, she threw the bench out of the way. "So. Who the hell are you?"

"Attila the Hun," the girl said. Glory didn't know who that was, but she was fairly sure that the woman in front of her wasn't this "Attila" person.

Next to her, the little witch was holding her hand and whimpering. Whiny little bitch. Those monks could have done _so_ much better with their Key than this.

But if she wasn't the Key, why would people be willing to actually attack Glory herself to protect her? "Never mind," Glory said. "It's not like I actually care. Just give me my Key, and I won't kill you."

"I don't have your key," the woman said. "Anyway, given your obvious strength, shouldn't you be able to open any door in your way?"

"It's not that kind of Key, dumbass."

"Then I apologize. I have no idea what you're talking about."

All around them the pathetic little humans were screaming, yelling, and running away. "Like I'm going to believe you, sweetie. Anyway -- stop that?"

"Stop what?"

"Backing away. It's not like it's going to do you any good, and it's only going to make you madder."

"So what can I do to calm you down?" the woman asked. "Short of actually handing over an innocent human being for you to torture, I mean."

"Nothing," Glory said. Well, there was no point in actually lying to the girl.

"Then, seeing as how you don't seem amenable to friendly conversation, I'd prefer to postpone whatever torments you plan to inflict on Tara, here. Or on me, for that matter. I guess I'm just crazy that way."

"Amenable? What the fuck does that mean?" When the woman opened her mouth, Glory said, "Again, not like I care. Look, chica. Stop trying to confuse me with big words. Just give me my Key and we'll all go home -- well, not happy, but at least we'll all be home. And God help you if I'm not able to fix my hair."

"Yes, Because that's clearly the most important thing right now. Never mind the murderous threats. Let's concentrate on your follicles."

The blonde witch was still moaning and muttering. She'd deal with her later. Right now --

She ran over, picked up the bench, and threw it at the woman who'd attacked her. Unfortunately, she ducked. Then they turned around and started to run.

Glory laughed. This was almost too easy.

But then the blonde witch threw some dust in the air, and before Glory could stop them, she yelled, "Trasportili!" and they both vanished.

"Grrr!" Glory said, stomping her foot. Well, this sucked. Now she'd have to track them down _all over_ again.

Well, at least it proved one thing: She'd found her Key.

X X X X X

Daria had noticed Tara, with her one good hand, rummaging through her purse. It looked as though she were attempting to cast a spell of some sort. True, Daria had never seen a spell before, but given that Tara was a witch, wasn't vain enough to want to do her hair at a time like this, and the deranged but extremely powerful woman standing in front of them, it seemed quite probable that that's what she was doing.

Therefore, it fell to Daria to distract the woman. Who, indeed, proved easily distractible -- up to the point when she heaved the park bench at Daria, anyway. Fortunately, by this point Tara had been able to cast the spell, which, to Daria's shock, turned out to be one of teleportation. Any lingering doubts she had about the existence or efficacy of magic were dispelled in, quite, literally, a flash, as they vanished from the park and reappeared inside what appeared to be a college dorm room.

She felt a tug on her hand, turned, and saw Tara on the verge of collapse. Daria was able to guide her to a bet before she fell completely unconscious. Thankfully, she was still breathing, deeply and regularly, so it didn't look as though she were in any further danger. Of course, she was still unconscious, and her hand looked as though it might be broken. Gingerly, she moved the hand and rested it between two pillows, then looked around for a telephone.

Unfortunately, she didn't see one. Nor did she find a convenient phone or address book. A quick peek through Tara's bag brought out a business card for The Magic Box.

Now all she needed to do was find a phone.

Given who was out there hunting for them, she hated to leave Tara alone, even for a second, but the alternative was worse, which was letting the woman suffer. So she closed the door behind her, ignored the quizzical stares of the other students, and went in search of a public phone.

She wasn't calling 911 because of the circumstances -- and because she didn't know whether Tara's coma was magical or natural, and, while it was apparent the woman loathed her, the only other person she knew who used magic was Willow.

Success. There was a phone. But there was no one around at the other end, at The Magic Box, to answer Daria's call.

She tried three times over the course of ten minutes, left a message all three times, and then tried elsewhere. The only other number she knew in Sunnydale belonged to Dr. Vaughn.

Fortunately, the psychiatrist was there. Daria quickly explained the situation. "I'll return to the store; if no one's there, I'll drop by Buffy Summers' house --" they had the address from Angel -- "and then I'll come see you. What did you do with her hand?'

"Right now, I have it between two pillows. It appears to be broken."

"If she passes from unconsciousness into normal sleep, try to be sure she doesn't roll over onto it. I'll do what I can when I get there but we're probably going to need to get her to a hospital. It's been a while since I've done anything on the physical side of medicine more complex than routine first aid."

"I understand," Daria said. "Under the circumstances, I'd prefer it be done quietly, though."

"I'll cancel the brass band."

"Please."

Then she hung up and she went back to guard Tara.

Such guarding as she could do, anyway.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim watched Daria Morgendorffer face down someone who could have only been the hellgod Glorificus from what she hoped very much was a safe distance. At first, seeing Daria charge up to the woman and strike her in the back of the head made her think that she had officially decided to become a Slayer -- but then she saw that Glorificus had apparently been assaulting a woman who looked familiar --

Of course. It was the one she'd run past in the alley. Cameron had trouble recognizing her in full color (leopards, like most feline saw in only a limited form of color vision). Daria coming to the rescue of someone obviously in danger wasn't one of the conditions under which she had to kill Daria. (For which she was quite grateful.) Still, she would mention it in her next report.

Noting how Glorificus casually picked up a park bench and threw it aside, then directly at Daria, Cameron thought Daria's actions had been gutsy, stupid, or possibly both. First time gutsy; she probably hadn't known how strong the hellgod was. Second time stupid, unless there was no other choice.

Anyway, from her hiding place behind a tree, she saw the confrontation play out -- right up to the point when the blonde woman and Daria disappeared in a flash of light.

Well, crap. How the hell was she supposed to be able to follow that?

X X X X X

When Lynette Vaughn hung up her cell phone, she grabbed her purse, her car keys, and raced outside. She'd heard Buffy Summers make casual reference to a hellgod, but she hadn't expected Daria to encounter her.

It brought home to her how serious this was -- which she'd understood in theory, but not in practice. Yes, Mrs. Krueger had attacked Daria in jail, but there was something different in her head between a murder-for-hire and a casual meeting.

This could kill Daria and Faith. It could kill _her._

Still, she didn't hesitate for a second to do what she could to help. On the way to the magic store, she called twice, and was rewarded with the same answering machine message that Daria had presumably gotten. Even so, she stopped by on the off chance that everyone in the building was occupied with something so important they couldn't spare five seconds to pick up a receiver.

Just like she'd expected, though, the door was locked, the lights were off, and from a quick peek inside the windows, no one was home. She wondered where they were, but didn't have the time to do anything about it.

It took Lynette about 20 minutes to find 1630 Revello Drive. Buffy Summers was home; Lynette found this out rather forcefully when the young woman came storming out the front door and crashed into her. As they stood up, they both apologized to each other, and then Buffy said, apologetically but quickly, "I really don't have time to chat right now."

And then it clicked for Lynette. Somehow, Buffy Summers and her friends knew that Tara was in trouble. "You're looking for Tara, aren't you?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she said suspiciously, "Yes. How did you know?"

"Because Daria just had to rescue her, in the middle of some kind of fair, from a 'dumb blonde with a bad attitude who's looking for something called the Key --"

"Glory." Buffy spat out the name as though it were a curse.

"Is that her name? I'll remember it. Anyway, she sad that as the woman was trying to kill her -- by throwing park benches at her like they were made of balsa wood -- Tara teleported them both into her dorm room and then collapsed."

Worriedly, Buffy said, "Is she --"

"Still alive. Though apparently she hurt her hand. Daria couldn't tell if her collapse was related to magic or simply exhaustion, so she suggested that I find Willow to check before I see if her hand needs further attention."

There was a confused look on Buffy's face for a second until she said, "Oh. Doctor. Right. Look, I just talked to Will, and she's on her way over there now--" She stopped mid-sentence, as though a horrid though had just occurred to her. "Holy shit. How fact can you drive?"

"How fast do you need me to?"

Buffy explained her thoughts, and Lynette said, "Let's go." They drove to the campus of UC-Sunnydale as fast as they could without actually going off the road.

Hitting the ground running, just short of literally, Buffy Summers was a hundred feet away before Lynette had even closed the car door. When she realized that Lynette was not in fact right behind her, she stopped to let her catch up, saying, "Sorry. Every once in a while I forget that not everyone can run as fast as I can."

"I think I can hold my own, for long enough anyway. But not when you have a thirty-yard head start."

Together, they ran to Tara's dorm. Buffy said, "When I dropped out this morning I didn't think I'd be back quite this soon." Lynette was a bit saddened to hear that the young woman had dropped out, and resolved to ask her about it under better circumstances.

"There's Tara's dorm room," Buffy said, pointing to a window. "Let's get --"

The window Buffy was pointing to abruptly shattered, sending shards of glass everywhere.

"Too late?" Lynette asked.

"Not if I can help it," Buffy said grimly.

X X X X X

Faith came to in a dorm room, with Willow's girlfriend sacked out on a bed in front of her, holding a piece of paper that said, "Read me."

So she read it. When she was done, she let out a low whistle and said, "Damn." DM'd gotten herself mixed up with some beefed-up skank who'd been trying to kidnap or kill Tara here. She double-checked the girl in the bed -- nope, still breathing regular, thank goodness, and her hand was still stuck between two pillows.

Then she stopped for a few minutes to think.

She hadn't expected DM to get them in trouble so quick -- hell, she hadn't expected _her _to do it at all. Faith kind of figured if anyone was going to get them in trouble, it was going to be her. Nothing she could do about it now. She'd have to talk to B, see if maybe the bitch was connected to this hellgod -- shit, maybe she _was_ the hellgod. DM'd mentioned it in their dream last night, but Giles and the rest of them had never bothered ponying up a description.

Still, there was a little bit of good news: She was OK and DM had saved a "damsel in distress" from someone a lot stronger during her first real field test. Better than Faith had done.

Of course, that still left them with a knocked-out witch and probably a PO'd hellgod, but that beat the alternatives all to hell. She was glad DM had thought to clue her in. Still, when Willow or whoever walked in it was probably better for the situation that the person who'd actually been there describe it. So . . . "Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

It was about twenty minutes after she'd brought Faith out that Daria came to again. Lacking anything else to do beyond making sure Tara didn't stop breathing or further injure her hand, she picked one of Tara's books of a shelf -- it appeared to be a beginner's guide to witchcraft. Daria figured it might in her best interest to learn a little on the subject.

But, only five minutes in, the door flew open and Willow Rosenberg walked in. "Good," Daria said. "You're here."

"What happened?" Willow fairly exploded. Daria began to explain, but was cut off when Willow yelled, "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything to her," Daria said. "I found her in the park, and --"

Willow was beyond rationality. She picked up a book and sent it flying at Daria.

Of course, she didn't pick it up with her hands. No. That would be too easy. Daria ducked and the book hit the window, smashing it.

When she looked up, Willow's eyes had turned completely black.

Daria's assumption was that this was not a good thing.


	6. Think

Disclaimer: _Buffy, Daria_ and the original characters belong to Joss, Glenn, and me, respectively.

Author's Note: Thanks to DrTaylor for pointing out a continuity glitch in this part, which I have now corrected.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus called all of her minions and monks together. "Okay, people," she said, "Listen up! I've found the Key. Unfortunately, she got away from me --"

"A temporary escape only, oh puissant Glorificus," one of the minions said.

"Well, _duuh_," Glory said. "But it does mean she's out there. Now, I want all of you out there looking for her. If you find her, call me -- and if I'm not available, get as many of you together as you can, and take her."

"Will this bring us into conflict with the Slayer?"

Glory shrugged. "Probably. Not like there aren't a lot more of you around." The minions muttered to themselves about how wise she was.

Which was true.

"Okay, then!" She said after a minute or so. "What are you all standing around for? Go get her!"

One of them raised his hand slowly. "Um, Wondrous One --"

"Oh, spit it out, Mesh," Glory said. "I'm not going to bite your head off." Mesh relaxed. "You'd taste terrible. I'd just break your neck or something."

"Thank you, Divine One," Mesh said. "But, um -- who are we looking for?"

Glorificus mentally reviewed what she'd said, realized she'd never actually told them, and -- setting aside a feeling of mild disappointment that she could not, in fact, make an example of Mesh the way she wanted to -- said, "Oh. Right. The blonde witch." After another delay, she said, "_Now,_ go get her!"

They got.

X X X X X

Daria wasn't going to attack Willow unless she had no other choice.

As all of the books in the room began to rise, presumably in readiness to be hurled at her, she began to consider that she might indeed have no other choice. She looked at the window to gauge her chances of being able to successfully dive through it.

No. She'd done nothing here, and she wouldn't by her actions imply otherwise. One more time, she decided to give reason a try, before she got pummeled by flying books. "Willow," she said. "Think. Please. You're supposed to be smart. Use that intelligence. If I had hurt Tara, would I still be here? If it were part of some evil plot, would I just have been sitting here calmly reading a book when you walked in? If I were Faith, would I be sitting here calmly reading a book at all?" Daria knew that Faith's attitude towards books had changed while she was in jail, but was betting Willow's opinion of Faith was low enough that she'd believe otherwise.

"She's hurt," Willow growled. The books kept hovering. Behind Willow, the door opened, and Dr. Vaughn and Buffy Summers stopped in horror when they saw what was happening. Daria held up a hand. Willow didn't seem to notice either Buffy or Daria's held up hand, telling Buffy to hold on a second.

"I know she's hurt. That's why I'm here. Taking care of her until you got here." After a pause, Daria reiterated, "Think."

"I don't want to," Willow said.

"Well, then, I'm sure Tara will appreciate how you tried to kill the person who saved her life. _Think_, goddammit. I'm not your enemy. Faith isn't your enemy. _And if I'd wanted to hurt her, she'd already be dead._"

Willow said nothing.

"I could have killed her twenty times in the last half hour. I could have attacked you the second you walked in the door. I could have just let that woman kidnap her, in the park." After a second. "I realize you don't like me. I don't care if you ever like me. But. Be. Rational."

Willow took a couple of quick breaths, then screamed and sent all the books flying out the window after the first one. Daria had plenty of warning and dropped to the floor as the books sailed over her head. When she stood up, Willow's eyes were back to normal.

"What the hell were you doing, Will?" Buffy asked.

Willow spun and saw them behind her, and said, "I came in and saw Tara -- and _her­ -- ­_and -- and --"

"And completely lost your mind?"

"Apparently," she said. Then she turned back to Tara. "Okay. Going by the assumption that you didn't hurt her, what happened, and why are you here?" There was still a good deal of anger in her voice, but Daria wasn't sure it was all directed at her. She explained what had happened. When she mentioned the teleportation spell, Willow let out a little gasp and walked quickly across the room to look at Tara. Daria got out of her way, looked out the window, and said, "She may want some of those books back, at some point."

Buffy said, "I'll get them, now that World War III seems to have been averted."

"I'll stay here," Dr. Vaughn. "Miss Rosenberg, is Miss MacLay's condition being affected by the spell she cast?"

After a second or two longer of holding Tara's left hand, Willow said, "Give me a second." Then she closed her eyes and concentrated. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Buffy reach the large pile of books -- and attempt to chase off the dozens of curious spectators. So far, campus security seemed to be nowhere in sight. But, from what she'd heard of Sunnydale, that was hardly a surprise.

Willow said, "I'm not the best judge at the moment, but I don't think so. What she seems to be mostly is exhausted. Teleportation spells take a lot out of the caster, even when the caster has time to prepare. Tara . . . had no time at all -- a few seconds, at most."

"Good," Daria said. Willow looked at her oddly, but said nothing.

"And now," Dr. Vaughn said. "May I . . .?"

Willow said, "Of course," and Dr. Vaughn went over to examine her. To Daria, Willow then said, "I think I owe you an apology." She didn't seem happy to be saying the words. On the other hand, she was saying them. So perhaps that was a good start.

"I'm not going to deny that you do," Daria said. "But I think we need to save this for when we have time to settle the issues you seem to have with Faith more thoroughly than is likely possible in the couple of minutes or so it takes Dr. Vaughn to examine Tara's hand. I'll accept for the moment that you have apologized. We can save the groveling, and work out why you tried to decapitate me with _Plato's Dialogues, _for later."

Nodding gratefully, Willow looked back over at Dr. Vaughn. "I hate to say this," the psychiatrist said, "But I think she's going to have to go to the hospital. Her hand seems like it might be broken." Outside, Buffy had the books collected and was apparently going to attempt to carry them all in at once. That should prove amusing.

"I thought it might be, the way that woman was squeezing," Daria said. "By the way. Who was that woman?" A book fell off the top of the pile. Then another.

"That was Glory," Willow said.

"She would be the 'hellgod' Miss Summers referred to yesterday," Dr. Vaughn said.

"I can believe it," Daria said. "And what's this Key she was looking for? She seemed absolutely convinced that Tara _was_ this Key, so I'm going to hazard a guess: This was not the key to anyone's heart."

"That's a big no," Willow said. Buffy, to Daria's amazement, had made it inside without dropping more than a handful of the books. "It's a Key to allow her to get back to her home dimension. And, before you ask, we don't let her go home because it would kill the person --" she stopped suddenly.

"I was already aware that this Key she was looking for was a human being," Daria said. "Or Glory wouldn't have believed that Tara could have been it. I'm going to hazard two further guesses: One, Tara is not in fact this Key. Two, Glory has cause to believe you know who it is, whether you do or not."

"We do," Willow said. "And we're not telling you." Her gaze suddenly went from meek to defiant, as though she expected Daria to object.

Daria was delighted to disappoint her. "I wouldn't tell us either. Because if we do know, there's always the chance Glory might torture us as well, and even though you're still sorry about nearly killing me, you still don't trust us. Hold on a second." Outside, a few people were slowly approaching the books of Tara's that Buffy had dropped. Raising her voice slightly, Daria said, "I believe you were ordered to stay away from those books."

"And what are you going to do if we don't?" one of them demanded.

"We have more books in here," Daria said calmly. "Would you like them to be aimed at you next time? Because I'm perfectly capable of doing that." She got a surly look in response, but the various students walked off. "I apologize," Daria said to Willow. "I felt you wouldn't want people going through some of those books. Also, as a book-lover myself, I loathe it when people take them without asking."

"I understand," Willow said.

"Anyway. You were saying?"

"No," Willow said. "I don't. Trust you, that is." But she was saying it matter-of-factly, and without the venom of their earlier interchanges. Daria was reasonably certain they would never be friends. Which was fine by Daria. But possibly they at least wouldn't be enemies. Daria suspected she and Faith could do with fewer enemies.

"Like I said, that's an issue to settle later," Daria said. "For the moment -- hold on a second, Dr. Vaughn --" Buffy was walking in, still maintaining a precarious hold on a stack of books maybe twenty high, just as the psychiatrist was stepping away from Tara.

"Get back," Buffy said, bending her knees so she and the stack could fit through the doorway. Once she'd cleared it -- again, without dropping a book -- then, once she was through, said, "A little help, please?"

Daria walked over, stood on her tows, and started plucking books off the top of the stack, handing them off to Willow and Dr. Vaughn, until Buffy said, "That's good," and simply knelt, placing the remainder directly on the floor. "How's Tara?"

"Asleep -- _deeply_ asleep -- and her hand's probably broken. We need to get her to a hospital."

Buffy said, "Okay. Here's what we're going to do. Dr. Vaughn. In your medical opinion, is it safe to wake Tara?"

"Safe? Probably. Is it possible? That's another story. She just slept through the contents of her library being flung through a window onto the sidewalk, and she hasn't so much has stirred despite the four of us standing here talking in normal tones of voice. Why?"

"Because we can explain a broken hand, but it's going to be a lot harder to explain why we can't wake her up."

Willow said, "I'm not sure I want to try, under the circumstances."

"Fine, Will. Then _you _explain it."

After a second, Willow blurted, "She's been studying really hard recently, 'cause finals are coming up, and . . ."

"Slept right through someone breaking her hand?" Daria asked. "Of course. Nothing suspicious there."

"But maybe, if we woke her up, it would explain why she's so groggy."

Daria said, "Good point."

"Thank you. Buffy, she needs to recuperate from this."

"And I'm not saying she won't get the chance, Will," Buffy said. "I'm just trying to hold off the doctors asking us any embarrassing questions." When no one said anything, Buffy said, "Fine. I'll carry her out to the car. You can come up with an excuse along the way, and try to wake her up when you get there. If you can't -- well, you can worry about that then."

"You?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

"Yes. You. Because that car's only going to seat four people, and it's your car, Tara's injured, Willow's her girlfriend, and Daria doesn't know her way around town. I'll finish cleaning up here, try to track down Giles and get them to call off the hunt, and get there as fast as I can."

Willow looked as though she wanted to protest, but wisely, she didn't. Clapping her hands, Buffy said, "Good. Now. If you'll excuse me?"

They cleared a path -- Daria shoved the book pile to one side -- and Buffy went over to pick up Tara. "It's probably best that someone gently hold her hand so it doesn't flop while Miss Summers is moving her," Dr. Vaughn said.

Willow said, "I'll do that," and came over and cradled Tara's hand, very gently, in her own.

Then it was off to the hospital.

X X X X X

It proved easier to awaken Tara MacLay than Dr. Vaughn had feared, but the young woman was still quite drained when she managed to stagger into the hospital emergency room with Willow's assistance. Daria remained unobtrusively nearby, in case her assistance was needed, but it wasn't.

Daria, Dr. Vaughn had noticed, made a production of being contemptuous of most of the rest of the human race -- and much of it was real -- but there was part of her that wanted to care about people. Being so intelligent -- so much more intelligent than anyone she'd apparently ever met, including her family and her teachers in Highland -- had helped cause her to be alienated from most of the rest of the human race. The brutal deaths of her family had done, of course, nothing to help that, and that the rest of her family felt entitled to run roughshod over her opinions in order to save her hadn't noticeably increased her love for all mankind.

But even she didn't want to be completely alone. Faith, for these purposes, didn't count. She and Daria had a relationship that was more intimate than most, and the two personalities were strongly devoted to each other, but it was a relationship of necessity, not choice. And while they also both liked Lynette, their relationship was mentor/student.

Daria had never been social, and likely never would be social. But, perhaps unconsciously, in addition to her stated reasons for making this trip -- all of which were no doubt true -- she was looking for someone to bond with. (If that was the case, on that level at least it was a wasted trip. The only person of Buffy Summers' group to be completely accepting of Daria and Faith, so far, was the one who was in a state of near-collapse.)

They made it into the emergency room okay, and with Tara providing the answers Willow filled out the paperwork. The charge nurse asked if Tara's obvious exhaustion had anything to do with their reasons for coming, and Willow said, "No! It's, you know, final paper time at college and all. She's pulled a couple of all-nighters." The nurse nodded, apparently satisfied.

Someone eventually came to lead Tara back to the examination area. While they waited, Daria read through a six-month old copy of _Time_ -- news to her, of course -- Lynette looked around, and Willow paced.

About a half hour later, a handsome young man came out and asked, "Are you the ones who brought in Ms. MacLay?"

"We are," Willow said. "How is she?"

"Whoever thought her hand might be broken made a good call," the man said. "But it's a clean break, and it should heal fairly quickly. I would, however, tell her to take some time off from studying, no matter how important her next test is. She fell asleep on me twice in the exam room -- once in the middle of a sentence."

"We'll do that," Willow said.

The man looked at Lynette. "Did you make the call to bring her in?"

Lynette stood up and shook his hand. "Yes. I'm a doctor, but I'm a psychiatrist. I knew enough to know I didn't know enough. Lynette Vaughn."

"Ben," the man said.


	7. Apples and Oranges

Disclaimer: _Buffy, Daria_ and the original characters belong to Joss, Glenn, and me, respectively.

Author's note: No prolonged interaction with Ben . . . yet. Basically, it's time for a nice long conversation. Or maybe two.

X X X X X

After Daria Morgendorffer and the girl she'd rescued vanished, Cameron Kim stayed in the park until the presumed Hellgod was well clear of the area. She might be forced to confront the woman at some point, but she'd rather that point be as far in the future as possible.

Having nothing else she could do at the moment -- her tracking skills couldn't trace people down through teleports, yes, Wolfram & Hart's training was _that _thorough -- she took the time to make her daily report.

At first, Lilah Morgan was upset with Cameron, but after Cameron fully explained it, she understood that there was nothing the shapeshifter could have done about it. "I expect this to be a temporary setback," she said.

"It will be. As soon as I get off the phone I'm going to go alternate between staking out the hotel and that magic store."

"Don't forget the hospital." Cameron didn't understand, and said as much. "Glorificus -- and that _was_ Glorificus -- was holding that woman's hand so tightly it's probably broken. Check the hospital."

"The blonde woman might be there," Cameron conceded. "I'm not sure about Daria Morgendorffer --"

"If she isn't, move on. Still. Check."

Cameron knew an order when she heard one, "Anything else?"

"Yes. Glorificus isn't the type of power to go about randomly beating people up. If she's attacking the Slayer and her associates, I'd say she thinks they know something about her Key. And while she's certainly stupid enough to be wrong, let's operate on the assumption that she isn't. It'll be safer in the long run."

"Understood," Cameron said. "So, for the moment, go on as normal --"

"But be ready to shift to plan B at a moment's notice. Right. Now, if there's nothing else?"

There wasn't. She hung up and went off in search of the hospital.

X X X X X

Tara had fallen back asleep on the ride back her dorm room. She thanked Daria for saving her, mentioned that Glory had seemed convinced that _she_ was the Key -- indicating to Daria that she almost certainly wasn't -- and had made it back to the car, so that that intern Ben hadn't gotten any more suspicious.

Daria hadn't liked him. He'd seemed overly concerned with Tara's welfare -- inappropriately so, though not in any way Daria could pin down. He seemed especially interested in finding out how Tara had crushed her hand. Daria supposed it could be chalked up to trying to find out if it was domestic abuse, but that didn't seem to be the angle his questions were taking. Since neither Willow nor Dr. Vaughn seemed to notice, she held her suspicions in check. Tonight she'd talk them over with Faith.

Willow said, once Tara had finally fallen asleep for good, "It's probably best for her right now. If she hasn't woken up for good by tomorrow morning, I'll be concerned."

"I assume you're going to keep an eye on her tonight?" Daria asked. Willow nodded. "Seems like a good time for us to talk, then. All three of us."

"All three -- oh." Her voice dropped thirty degrees in that one last syllable. "You, me, and Faith."

"Yes," Daria said. "Now that we know that what Tara needs most is a good night's sleep and a few doses of Tylenol-3, it seems like the perfect time. Because, like I said, I don't care if you never trust me, or even if you never like me. I've dealt with that my entire life. But here's the thing. I'm going to be here, because there may be times I'll be called upon to rescue someone from a rampaging slime demon --"

"Slime demons don't rampage," Willow said. "They usually just stay in the sewers."

"Thank you," Daria said. "It might be helpful if I was aware of things like that -- who and how to kill, and more importantly, who not to. But for that to happen, ideally at least, I'm going to need to be able to converse with Buffy or Mr. Giles without having to face the possibility of you becoming a refugee from the _X-Files_ and trying to murder me with whatever conveniently portable piece of debris happens to be lying around the room. True, it would be a burst of supreme irony for me to be crushed to death by books. But it's an irony that, I'm sure you understand, I would prefer to avoid."

"Are you sure about this, Daria?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

"Yes. For the reasons I've already stated." She looked at Willow. "Do we have an agreement?"

Hesitantly, Willow said, "I guess so. But if it bothers Tara --"

"I don't want to disturb her any more than you do," Daria said. "Lost in her congratulating me for saving her life is the fact that it's quite possible that she saved mine in return. I may be superhumanly strong, but I'm reasonably certain that she distinctly outclasses Buffy and I in that regard."

"That's a big yes," Willow said. "Buffy's fought her twice so far. The first time she only won because a building fell on Glory. The second, Buffy got her clock cleaned. Don't tell her I said so."

"Darn. There go my blackmail plans."

"Do you want me to wait?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

Daria said, "No. Not in a town like this, at night. I want you to go directly back to the hotel and lock yourself in."

"Is that safe?" Dr. Vaughn asked. "Angel gave us the rules about having to invite vampires in, but never mentioned if it applied to hotels."

"Ironic, considering his choice of residence," Daria said.

Willow said, "It doesn't. But vampires usually don't hit such obvious targets. They don't regularly raid hospital blood banks, either. Some kind of instinct, I guess."

"I guess it's that if they hit the easy targets too often, they won't be easy any more. People will stop staying at the hotels if there are regular news stories about people being dragged out of them and brutally murdered."

"Right," Willow said. "Though I doubt those are their thought processes. Most vampires tend to be too dumb and driven by their urges to actually think these things through."

"So you're saying I'm safe, unless I'm not," Dr. Vaughn said.

"Pretty much."

"I think I'll be sleeping with one eye open," Dr. Vaughn said. "And like I said, Daria. Call me. This isn't the time for you to try to prove how tough you are by attempting to survive Sunnydale after dark."

Of course, Daria wasn't trying to prove any such thing; and of course, Dr. Vaughn knew that. "You understand me so well," Daria said.

"I didn't get my psychiatrist's degree out of a Cracker Jack box."

"Too bad. You would have gotten some yummy caramel popcorn to go along with it." After a second, "I'll call. I promise."

"Good."

Daria carried Tara into the room -- "You said she needs the sleep," she said when Willow began to protest. Willow gently held Tara's broken hand, while Dr. Vaughn went ahead to open the door. If anyone noticed the odd precession, they didn't say anything about it. Daria placed Tara down on the bed; she stirred briefly and fell right back asleep.

Dr. Vaughn reiterated, "Call me," before she left.

Daria leaned against the wall, while Willow took the desk chair and moved it over by the bed. "So," Willow said, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh gee, I don't know. How 'bout them Cowboys?"

"Dumb question?'

"I believe that can be answered with a hearty yes," Daria said. "So. Would you care to explain your overreaction?"

"I don't trust you," Willow said.

"I don't trust a lot of people," Daria said. "That doesn't mean I try to murder them on sight."

"There's a difference between not trusting a politician and not trusting someone who tried to murder you and your friends."

"Something you may not be aware of," Daria said. "I've never tried to murder anyone. Been tempted, yes."

"Don't play semantics," Willow snapped.

"I'm not. But you're reacting as though I were Faith. I'm not. We're distinct individuals."

"Who share the same body."

"That fact had not escaped my notice," Daria said. "But I'm still not sure I understand your point. Qualified psychiatrists, the county of Los Angeles, and your own girlfriend have testified to our dual existence. We have our own set of memories and our own experiences. The only way we're even aware of each other's existence is through notes and when we talk in our dreams."

"You are the sum of your parts," Willow insisted stubbornly.

"Faith is not one of my parts," Daria insisted, just as stubbornly. "I'm not one of hers, either. Since you've chosen a mathematical metaphor, let me counter with one of my own: Apples and oranges. You can't simply 'add' Faith and me together, lump us in, as though we were the same personality."

"I look at you, I see her," Willow said. "I find it very hard to be rational where she's concerned."

"I've noticed that," Daria said. "So has the window." Campus maintenance had, in the intervening time, come and replaced the dorm room window with a couple of sheets of plywood. "But, since it seems that your issues are more with her than me --"

"Don't say it," Willow said.

Daria ignored her. "Give us a kiss."

X X X X X

Faith came to in the same dorm room she'd woken up in earlier, only now it was night, the window was boarded up, and Willow was sitting on a chair by the bed. Tara was still asleep on it.

"Heya, Red. What's goin' on?"

"Daria thought we needed to talk," Willow said.

"Can't see why," Faith said.

Pointing to the window, Willow said, "That's kinda why."

"She wanted me to fix your window? That's stupid. I do vampires, not construction work."

"No," Willow said. "I was looking for Tara this morning and found Daria sitting here and Tara unconscious on the bed, and I snapped. Threw books at her with my mind."

Faith looked around. Books were piled all over the place -- only a few of them on the shelves where they belonged. "Gotta work on your aim, there. Looks like you missed." She didn't bother repressing a grin.

"That isn't really the issue."

"Yeah. I know. Still funny, though." After a second, more soberly, she asked, "What'd you go and do that for? Way I hear it, DM _saved_ your girl there."

"She did," Willow confirmed. "But all I saw when I got back here was Tara hurt and you sitting there."

"DM ain't me," Faith said. "You wanna be pissed me for all the shit I pulled, I got no beef with that. I deserve it. She doesn't."

"I suppose," Willow said, "On some level, I understand that. Intellectually, I know that the two are you are completely separate personalities. Even if you managed to fool psychiatrists and lawyers, there's no way you'd be able to fool Tara."

"Okay. Genius like you --" and she was careful not to say the word genius like it was an insult -- "Has it all figured out. Knowin' all that, _why the fuck did you try to kill Daria_?"

"Because my brain's not in charge!" Willow yelled, then nervously looked over at Tara. She didn't move. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to deal with?"

"I think I get it," Faith said. "You like to think that your brain's in charge 'cause it's been what's gotten you where you are. Sucks to find out that you're just as emotional as everyone else."

"What sucks is having it thrown in my face," Willow said. "But yeah, you've got it there, all right. You're smarter than I thought."

Looking at her sharply, Faith said, "Yeah, I am. Let's get something straight here. One of the things Doc Vaughn had me do way back when I was just first gettin' into therapy was take an IQ test. You wanna know what I got?' Willow nodded. "135. People think that 'cause I ain't got much in the way of an education that that has to mean I don't have a lot upstairs. You know what? I do. I might not be quite at the level of you or DM, but I'm up there. And it ain't something I'm trying to hide any more. 'cause one of the things that made me wanna hide it was that guy back in Texas who killed the Morgendorffer family. Doc told me. He gave Daria a hard time about bein' so smart that she couldn't save her family. And I'm not going to let him determine who I am. So yeah, you're damn right I'm smarter than you thought." She stopped. "Anyway, this ain't about me. It's about you. All this back-and-forthin' seems to come down to one thing. You look at Daria, you see me."

"Exactly," Willow said.

"So, how can we make that go away?"

"I don't think you can."

"Well, you'd better try," Faith said. "'cause she ain't going away, and neither am I, at least not anytime soon." Willow didn't say anything. "Look. Just try talking to her. Without all the personal shit. Try seein' her as her for once."

"I--"

"Yes?"

"I'll try."

X X X X X

Buffy came back to the dorm early the next morning, to check on Tara. She was surprised by what she found.

Willow was asleep on the floor. Daria -- yeah, had to be her from the body language -- was awake, sitting in a chair. Tara woke up when she came in the room. "Good morning," Daria said quietly.

"I have to say, I wasn't expecting to see this," Buffy said.

"It's not quite as idealistic as it looks," Daria said. "We spent some time talking, and she was clearly trying to play nice, but --"

"With Will? That's a good start," Buffy said. "And hey, Tara."

"Hey," she said, still sleepily. "How long has it been?"

"Seventeen hours, forty-one minutes, and seventeen seconds since you teleported us back here," Daria said. "Not like I'm counting or anything. How are you feeling?"

"Like I, I just ran a marathon. Only, without the, you know, fun part of actually running it."

"You think marathons are fun?" Buffy said in disbelief.

"I was being sarcastic. Or trying to," Tara said. "I think I could get out of bed -- but don't ask me to walk very far." Daria moved back slightly, and Tara threw off the sheet and stood up. After a step, she staggered and Daria caught her. "Or, okay, at all."

On the floor, Willow stirred. "Hunh? Oh. Buffy -- Tara! What --"

"Awake now," Tara said. "Movement, still something of an issue."

Willow stood up, all sleepiness gone. "Give her to me," she said. Without a word, Daria handed her over. "You can lean on me, baby," she said.

"I suspected as much," Tara said, grinning slightly.

The mood was killed when the door came flying off its hinges. Buffy stopped it from hitting anyone else, then turned to the doorway.

Glory stood there. "Okay," she said. "Who's ready for round two?"


	8. Whither Thou Goest

Disclaimer: _Buffy_ is Joss'; _Daria_ is Glenn'severyone else is mine.

X X X X X

Daria reacted first. She turned around, kicked the plywood out of the window, grabbed Tara, and jumped out.

Good for her. Unfortunately for Buffy, that left her and Willow facing a thoroughly pissed-off Glory. "You're trying to keep me away from my Key," she said. "Don't think you're going to succeed."

Buffy knew she had to hold off the hellgod as long as she could. "Will!" She yelled.

Willow threw up a magical shield. "Oh, please," Glory said. "Like that's even going to slow me down." She started pounding on it, and it gave a bit but didn't break. "Okay, maybe it _will_ slow me down. But there's nothing saying I have to keep trying to go through it, sweetie."

She turned around and started to run back the direction she'd come from. Willow gestured and slammed her into the wall across the hallway, then sent the broken pieces of the door flying after her.

Willow had already dropped the shield when Buffy picked her up, to Willow's mild protest, and leapt through the window. Daria and Tara were nowhere in sight.

Unfortunately, neither was Glory.

X X X X X

This had been one hell of a boring night for Cameron Kim. She'd caught up to Daria Morgendorffer and company at the hospital -- even managed to walk in and out of the waiting room a couple of times, but lost them not long after they got back into the psychiatrist's car.

Thankfully, she had a good idea of where they were going -- the blonde witch's only residence was her dormitory on the UC-Sunnydale campus. (Cameron had gotten a briefing on the more prominent denizens of Sunnydale from Wolfram & Hart researchers.) So she slowly got into her car, not bothering trying to keep up with them.

Her instincts had been right. Daria Morgendorffer had indeed ended up back at the dorm -- but, to Cameron's surprise, she didn't leave with the psychiatrist, instead choosing to stay in the dorm room with -- what were their names again? Tara MacLay and Willow Rosenberg.

Unfortunately for Cameron, she couldn't simply stand outside in human form, or even wander by in several different human forms. Security in Sunnydale might be notoriously slow-witted, but she didn't want to take the chance that she'd run into the one who was both conscientious and competent. So she scouted around, found a good, thick, leafy tree about a hundred feet from the dorm room window, waited until no one was looking, became an orangutan and climbed up until she was good and hidden. She watched until she was convinced that Daria Morgendorffer wasn't going anywhere for a while, then settled down for a short nap.

She awoke to the sounds of chaos. Immediately, she resumed her human form, climbed down the tree-- no sense in getting anyone any _more_ excited because, oh my god, that was a _biiiiiig_ monkey I just saw, although honestly, from the way people were running and screaming, Cameron suspected she could have looked like Godzilla and no one would have noticed.

She made it to the ground just in time to see Daria Morgendorffer, holding MacLay in a fireman's carry, jump from the dorm window and run like Satan himself was chasing her.

She wasn't far off. About fifteen seconds later, Glorificus came running out of the dormitory, faster than any human being could possibly hope to match. Even in cheetah form, Cameron wouldn't have been able to keep up.

So she didn't try, instead being content with simply keeping the hellgod within eyeshot. This was hindered a bit by the chaos -- apparently Glorificus, in her march towards the dorm room, hadn't bothered with concepts like "around, not through." Cameron could hardly blame the people for being panicked.

There they were! In the distance, Glorificus was standing near the edge of campus, facing Daria and MacLay. When she strained, Cameron could hear Glorificus say something about "The Key."

Damn. It was getting to be time to reveal herself. And she wasn't particularly looking forward to having to attack a hellgod.

Still, the prospect of what waited for back at Wolfram & Hart if she _didn't_ scared her even more.

X X X X X

Now, the divine Glorificus was in her happy place. The blonde witch looked like she couldn't lift a finger to cast a spell, and that was all that had saved her last time.

"I think you have something that belongs to me," Glory said.

"A sense of restraint and decorum?"

"_So_ not in the mood. Give me my Key or --" Oh, good. Here came the Slayer and the _other_ little witchy person. Didn't matter. None of it mattered. She could take on all of them, blind, if she had to. And look at how they all took up defensive positions around the blonde. "Any last words, chicas?" Glory asked.

"Just one," the Slayer said. "Leopard."

Leopard? What the hell -- "Aaagh!" A large cat jumped her from the side and began clawing and biting her. After a minute or so, she threw the beast off and stood up. The dark-haired one and the Key were running away."

"Will, _now_!"

Suddenly she was thrown backwards into the street. Damn. That witch was stronger than Glory'd thought. Still not strong enough, though, she thought as she stood up. Bitch was going to pay.

She took one step forward and was completely blindsided by the SUV. "Oh, shit," she yelled as it knocked her into the air onto the hood of a parked car. She sat up, then felt _him_ starting to come back. Oh, no. He didn't dare. He couldn't. "Not now, you idiot," she yelled. "Let go --"

Which was the last thing she said, and thought, for quite a while.

X X X X X

Buffy caught up to Daria, who'd taken off running, Tara in her arms, the moment the leopard had attacked the hellgod. Willow ran up a second later. "I'll take her," Buffy said.

"I can walk on my own --" Tara said.

"Now isn't the time to experiment and find out," Buffy snapped. Then, a bit more softly, to Daria: "Thanks. This isn't your fight."

Daria had to disagree. If she stayed out of this, which she had every excuse for doing, there was the possibility of someone innocent getting hurt. She was sure Faith would agree, and planned to ask her at the next opportunity. "Yes, it is," she said.

Buffy looked at her gratefully. "Then scoop up Dr. Vaughn, bring whatever you have, and meet us at this address." She handed Daria a piece of note paper with a scrawled address and some directions. "Don't dawdle." Hmmm. Buffy wouldn't want them to pack up unless they were all going somewhere. Unless she was planning on telling them to leave town. But she doubted that.

"Well, I _was_ planning on taking the grand tour, but I suppose I can postpone," Daria said. Right then, a somewhat exhausted-appearing young Korean woman came running up. Daria knew her -- this was the shapechanger who'd helped her, in prison -- and said as much. "Plus," she added, "I'd like to hazard a guess that you were the leopard outside the magic store yesterday."

"Guilty," she said. "Cameron Kim. Nice to meet you."

"You can change into a leopard?" Willow asked. "Is that like a werewolf thing, or --"

"Not just leopards," Cameron said. "A lot of things."

"Why have you been following me?" Daria asked.

Buffy shook her head. "We can settle this later. Daria: See you at the address." She and Willow left.

Turning to Cameron, Daria said, "I don't suppose you have a phone."

X X X X X

The conversation with Daria was terser this time. "Pack up, pay up, and meet me on campus," she said. "And I'm going to have someone with me -- she and I have met before briefly. I'd appreciate it if you'd hurry."

Lynette didn't speculate. In any event, she caught the tone in Daria's voice, and didn't waste any time. She had their things thrown in their suitcases and in the car within five minutes, and had paid the clerk and was on the road three minutes after that.

She was on the UC-Sunnydale campus in ten minutes. Daria was standing there, talking with a young Asian woman who appeared to be in her mid-20s. Lynette had never seen her before, but had some suspicions as to her identity.

These were confirmed when Daria and the woman got into the car and Daria introduced her as "the woman who changed from a snake into a human and into a leopard in front of me, in jail." Then she handed Lynette a sheet of notepaper and said, "This is where we need to go." Lynette would have no problem finding it; she had an unerring sense of direction, but oddly, a hard time telling anyone else how to get anywhere.

Lynette said she could, and Daria added, "As quickly as possible. The hellgod broke into Tara's room this morning, and we were saved through luck, a bit of magic, and the timely intervention of Ms. Kim."

"Cameron," the woman said. "I prefer Cameron." Her voice was neutral -- not robotic, but the neutrality of someone carefully concealing their thoughts and feelings.

"Cameron, then," Daria said, "And once again, her ability to change into a leopard proved quite useful, distracting the hellgod at a crucial moment."

"A leopard?" Lynette asked. "Why not a lion or a rhinoceros?"

"I can change my form, not my mass," Cameron said. "Whatever I change into, I will always weigh exactly 123 pounds."

"So, as I was asking earlier," Daria said, "Why have you been following us? Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful that you stepped in when you did, both times. But the timing implies that you've been keeping us under observation for quite a while now."

"I have," Cameron confirmed. "But I'd prefer not to tell you why until I've been given permission to." And despite further entreaties, she wouldn't say anything else on the subject, beyond, "My superiors dislike Glorificus -- that's the hellgod's name, by the way -- as much as you and the Slayer do." Cameron stopped for a second, as though wondering if she'd said anything offensive; not seeing any reaction, she kept talking. "They don't want her to return home any more than you do."

Cameron's refusal to name her employers was telling, but irrelevant. Angel had established weeks ago that she was an operative for Wolfram & Hart. Daria knew this as well, but the two of them would have to wait until they were out of Cameron's earshot to discuss what this meant, beyond the obvious point of them not being able to trust the woman any further than they had to.

"Since you helped save lives back there," Daria said, "I can let that slide for the moment." Daria stressed the last three words, a sentiment Lynette concurred with.

Cameron was perfectly willing to discuss her background and how she learned she could change shape, but nothing about her current circumstances.

This lasted until the ride ended, at Xander Harris' apartment. He opened the door, but apart from a few sideways glances no one seemed concerned that they were there. There was evident curiosity about Cameron, but no one said anything.

They'd arrived in the middle of a discourse by Tara MacLay. "And, and then," she said. "Glory was standing in front of us. I, I never realized she could, you know, run that fast. She and Daria exchanged words, and then Buffy and Willow ran up."

"And then you kicked her ass," Dawn Summers said.

"Hardly," Buffy said bitterly.

"Don't sell yourself short, Buffy," Willow said. "You did--"

"I did nothing. Daria protected Tara, you knocked Glory into the street, and, if I'm not completely mistaken, the woman over there distracted her by changing into a leopard and attacking. All I did was yell, "Now!" Clearly, she wasn't concerned that she'd missed out; she was scared and angry, not jealous.

"But you did it so well," Willow said.

Xander said, "The important thing is, you beat her."

"No, we didn't," Daria said. "Luck, magic and Cameron Kim managed to slow her down. Slightly. Not stop her."

"And where she went after the SUV hit her," Buffy said, "I have no idea. We didn't win. We got lucky."

"Everyone's safe, though," Rupert Giles said.

"Safe?" Buffy asked incredulously. "Every time we've faced Glory we've barely managed to avoid being seriously dead. Now that she thinks Tara's who she's after?"

Giles said, "There must be something in _The Book of Tarnis_ that I've missed. Something we can use against Glory."

Anya said, "Piano!"

"Let me guess," Daria said. "Glory prefers the accordion."

"No!" Anya said. "We drop a piano on her." Everyone gave her a funny look, except for Daria, who was wearing her trademark Mona Lisa smile. "Well, it works for that creepy cartoon rabbit --"

Cameron Kim suggested, "Anvils would work just as well. But I'm betting they're in short supply. Maybe we could come up with something more practical?"

Anya glared at her and said, "Who the hell are you?"

"Cameron Kim," Daria said. "Spy, savior, shapeshifter extraordinaire. Mattel is unveiling the action figure next week. Otherwise, I think now isn't the time for long introductions. Her question was a good one. Is there anything more practical?"

Anya snapped her fingers a couple of times. When Rupert Giles started to complain, she said, "This is what people do when they're trying to say something. I know. I've seen it." After another second, she said, "I know! The Dagon Sphere!" Once again, she got strange looks; she endured them with the air of someone who by and large couldn't possibly care less how other people glare at her. "When Buffy first ran into Glory," she said. "That magical glowy sphere that was supposed to repel her. We've got it at the Magic Box, -- Oh! Along with Olaf's Hammer. You know, what better weapon to use to beat up one god than a weapon that belonged to another one?" Xander looked at her admiringly; everyone else except Cameron, Daria, and Lynette herself looked at her in stunned disbelief.

Buffy nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Anya. And you too, Daria, and Cameron, for prompting her."

"Happy to help," Anya said. "Want to live."

"I don't want Glorificus to get the Key any more than you do," Cameron said.

All action in the room stopped -- Daria and Lynette, when they realized how everyone else was reacting. Dawn Summers gasped slightly --

Holy crap. _Dawn Summers was the Key._

Not Tara MacLay.

No one else seemed to notice. Buffy had Cameron shoved against the door before anyone else had moved. "How," she hissed, "Do you know about the Key?"

"Put me down and I'll answer you," Cameron said calmly. Releasing her, Buffy took a half step backwards. "My employers told me about Glorificus and what she wants to do -- and the consequences. I was spying on Ms. Morgendorffer for them for reasons I won't go into. Once I told them about Glorificus, they told me that if it looked like she was close to getting her Key, I was supposed to break my silence and help you prevent it."

"Consequences?" Giles asked.

"Hell on Earth," Cameron said. "Literally."

After another second or two of silence, Buffy said, "We can save the details for later. "Anyway, even though we have a couple of tools we can use to fight Glory, I still think we're better off not having to. What happens this morning proves it. We've run out of time. Glory can and will come for us whenever she wants. Staying and fighting isn't an option."

"Are you suggesting we run," Giles asked.

"We stay, we die," Buffy said. "Show of hands for that plan?" Damn, but Buffy Summers had an excellent instinctive grasp of group psychology. No one raised their hand. "Good. Now. No one goes home, nobody tells anyone where we're going. We pack what we need and we get out."

Xander said, "What about wheels? We can't fit everyone in the Xandermobile."

"How about if we use my car?" Lynette asked.

"Thanks," Buffy said. "Bring it. You can drive ahead. Everyone else, get your stuff and I'll take care of the transportation."

As everyone else scattered, Buffy said to Lynette, Daria, and Cameron, "This still isn't your fight. Especially you, Dr. Vaughn."

Cameron Kim spoke first. "Now that I've blown my cover, I may as well come along with you. Excuse me, though; I have a phone call to make." And she walked into the hall.

"Dr. Vaughn?" Buffy asked.

Lynette asked Daria directly, "Are you going?"

"Kitty Genovese," was Daria's reply.

"Whither thou goest, I will go," Lynette said.

"That's settled, then. Meet you in front of the Magic Box."

They knew a dismissal when they heard one, and left.


	9. Me and You Against the World

Author's Note: Long part. Longer than normal. But I couldn't see spreading this part out over two sections, and I didn't want to condense it. So, in the tradition of NBC, enjoy this "Supersize" chapter of "The Sum of Their Parts."

On second thought, those Supersized eps usually stank, didn't they? Never mind. Forget I said anything.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all of the _Buffy_ characters. Glenn Eichler owns _Daria_. I own the plot, Cameron Kim, and Lynette Vaughn. Also, I've been borrowing a few lines from the episode "Spiral" and I do so here as well.

X X X X X

As Cameron Kim walked down to the street where Lynette Vaughn's car was parked, she called Lilah Morgan. "Time for plan B," she said.

"This soon?" Lilah said. "Why?"

"Because Glorificus is convinced she knows who the Key is," Cameron said, and told Lilah what had happened that morning. "I said I'd go with them, but --"

"No. Good idea. You can be ready if Glorificus tries anything, and you can keep an eye on Morgendorffer along the way." Good point. "Do they trust you?"

"Not really," Cameron said. "At least, Daria Morgendorffer and Lynette Vaughn don't seem to. My rescue this morning bought me a little, but not much. As for the rest of them, they all got very quiet when I mentioned the Key. Buffy Summers slammed me up against a door."

"They know who it is," Lilah said. Cameron had reached the same conclusion. "In any event, if they're willing to let you come along, they obviously trust you that far. Cultivate that trust. I want them thinking of you as an ally. See if they let anything slip." After a second, "In the meantime, do you have any idea who the Key actually is?"

"No. Glorificus seems to think it's Tara MacLay. But then, as you've told me, she's an idiot."

"She is," Lilah said. "It doesn't mean she's wrong."

"Right. Anyway, the Slayer and her friends were certainly protecting MacLay as though she were the Key."

"They would have done that anyway," Lilah said. "The good guys are like that. I'll have some of our people do some research to see if we can figure out whether it is Tara MacLay."

"Do we have any interest in the Key?" Cameron asked.

"Not really. Except, of course, we want to make sure that Glorificus doesn't use it. We have much less destructive methods to use if we want to travel the dimensions -- Glorificus doesn't want to do all the work, she just wants to rip open a tear in reality and go directly there. Still, if we figure out which one it is, and it looks like the hellgod's anywhere _near_ actually figuring out how to use it, you're going to have to kill them."

"Understood," Cameron said. She hoped it didn't come to that. Killing in cold blood was not something she had any fondness for doing. Right then, Lynette Vaughn and Daria Morgendorffer exited from the apartment building, "I'm going to need to get going. Oh -- the company car I used is parked in a UC-Sunnydale parking lot --"

"We'll take care of it. Now get going."

They hung up.

X X X X X

Buffy had had this contingency plan prepped and ready to go for weeks now, if the Glory situation ever got this desperate. Anya's ideas to use the Dagonsphere and Olaf's Hammer had been good ones-- it was just that they no longer had the luxury of sitting around and trying to map out a plan. Even with Daria/Faith's help, and maybe the help of a shapechanger who wouldn't even tell them who she was working for, they didn't have enough firepower.

Maybe, just maybe, they could still win this thing. If they bought themselves enough time.

Running like hell fought against almost every instinct Buffy had. Rule number one of being a Slayer might be "don't die," but she didn't like to run away.

She ran down the stairs of Xander's apartment building -- Dr. Vaughn, Daria, and Cameron Kim were nowhere in sight. Damn. This would have been easier with a ride.

Well, no help for that now. Slayer strength translated to Slayer speed and endurance. No, Buffy couldn't run as fast as Glory had, but she could run as fast as any normal human sprinter at top speed, and keep up the pace for a lot longer. She made it to Spike's crypt in slightly under ten minutes.

She didn't bother knocking. Spike was in bed when she got there, but woke up at the sound of his crypt door slamming open. "You'd better --" he shouted. "Oh. It's you. What do you need?"

"It's time," Buffy said.

"Time for what?" Spike asked. Buffy just kept staring. "Oh," Spike said. "You sure?"

"Yeah. She nearly kicked my ass this morning -- she kicked down the door of Tara's dorm room this morning. Somehow she got the idea that Tara's the Key." She gave him a two-minute summary of what had happened. Once she was done, she said, "Now, did you live up to your end of the bargain?"

"I wouldn't muck up something like this," Spike said.

"Good. Where is it?"

"Give me a minute to get dressed and I'll take you right to it."

"That's all you get," Buffy said. "We're on a tight schedule."

As Spike was putting his duster on he said, "Hold a sec, love. You sped through that story so fast I hardly noticed you mentionin' a couple of people I've never heard of before. Who're this Daria and Cameron?"

"I'll tell you along the way," Buffy said.

They had to go underground, of course; it was, after all, daylight. As they ran through the Sunnydale underground, Buffy explained who Daria was. She was about to explain Cameron Kim when Spike suddenly stopped. "You're shittin' me," he said. "She fed you this line and you believed it?"

"It seems to be true so far, Spike," Buffy said. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. We need as much as help as we can get right now."

"Some kinds of help you don't need."

"Exactly what most of my friends are going to say about you when we come roaring up and you're at the wheel of the Winnebago," Buffy said. "Keep that in mind before you start any big fights. I'm not entirely sure whose side they'll all come down on. Now let's get going."

"Right," Spike said as they started up again. "I see the way this is going. And this Cameron git?" Buffy told him who she was. They came to a street access ladder and Spike said. "If you tell me you trust this one, too, I'll know you've gone starkers."

"Trust her? No. I trust that she doesn't want Glory to win -- Glory's not smart enough for subtle. Beyond that -- look. She doesn't know that Faith's still around inside Daria. Don't let it slip."

"I think I've proven I can be trusted," Spike said.

"True. Be careful anyway."

Spike handed Buffy a set of keys. Scrambling up the street access ladder, Buffy opened the manhole, climbed into the street -- a not heavily used one, thank goodness -- and opened the RV's side door. She yelled down to Spike, "Now!" and jumped backwards.

Spiderman himself couldn't have climbed that ladder any faster. Not a wisp of smoke emerged as he made inside the trailer. Buffy ran in after him.

They stopped by the Magic Box, quickly. Daria, Dr. Vaughn and Cameron Kim were in front of the store. "I'll be just a second," Buffy said to Spike, and ran out of the RV.

"That's your plan?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

"I couldn't find a school bus," Buffy snapped. "Daria. Could you give me a hand?"

Daria followed Buffy inside the shop. From the condition of the place, Willow had already been inside -- there were some books missing. "What do you need?" Daria asked.

"Two things," Buffy said. "First, see that giant hammer behind the counter?" Daria nodded. "Get that."

Taking the hammer down, Daria said, "Heavier than it looks."

She tossed it to Buffy, who caught it, spun it a few times, and said, "Good. This'll work." She thre it back to Daria.

"I hope you don't expect me to spin it," Daria said. "I believe I would end up hitting myself in the face."

"Not much practice with weapons?"

"If by 'not much' you mean 'none,' then yes, you could say that."

"You do need training."

"I doubt you're going to be doing any right now. Unless you've suddenly changed your mind and have chosen this place to make a last, heroic stand against the forces of evil." A pause, then, "You said you needed two things."

Buffy said, "Yeah. I'm going to want you in the RV with the rest of us -- and I'm _not_ going to want Cameron Kim in there. I'm also going to want Faith in there."

"Cameron Kim doesn't know about Faith," Daria said. "I hate to have to keep her locked inside me for the foreseeable future. You're right not to trust her," Daria said. "Something --"

"Save it for the trip," Buffy said. "Now, I'm looking for something . . ." she stopped. By the wall to the stairs leading down was a note. "Already got the Dagon Sphere. Willow."

Well, that settled _that_.

X X X X X

Daria explained to Dr. Vaughn that Buffy wanted her in the Winnebago, and then moved to enter the RV. Buffy yelled, "Follow us," and came in after her.

There was a bleach blond man behind the wheel, and all of the windows were covered over with aluminum foil, except for a small hole in the front side. "And you are?" Daria said.

"Spike," the man said in a generic lower-class British accent. "And I don't care what line of crap you've managed to sell to the Slayer back there; I'm just letting you know: Cause her or her sister any grief and you'll be answering to me."

"Excuse me?" Daria said, putting the hammer down. The hammer, for what it's worth, hadn't felt awkward in her hand, the way it would have if she'd picked it up back in Lawndale. The echo had told her that while Slayers needed training to make certain they were experts in using whatever weapons they used, that they had learned quickly and seemed to have an instinctive grasp of how to use them at a basic level. "You won't be able to take on the three musketeers the first time you pick up a sword," she'd said. "But you won't make a complete ass of yourself, either." Still, she was going to leave the weaponry to Buffy unless there was no other choice.

"You heard me, _Faith_," Spike said.

Daria said. "Ah. I see. You've heard the explanations, you don't believe them, and now, in an exaggerated attempt to prove your masculinity, you're going to threaten me with death, dismemberment, or possibly being staked out on an anthill while you cover me in honey. This was mildly amusing the first time it happened. It's no longer amusing or entertaining. So go on and believe what you want to believe. I have better things to do with my life."

As Spike began to formulate a retort, Buffy said, "Stow it, Spike. She's coming, you're coming, and there's nothing you or anyone can do to change my mind, up to and including, 'she goes or I go.'"

"Right then. Still think you're making a mistake." Buffy walked to a small table, sat down at it, and opened up a map as Spike pulled the Winnebago to a stop. The door opened and everyone came in, first Willow, supporting Tara on one shoulder -- Tara got the seat next to Buffy -- then Dawn, and finally Giles, Anya and Xander.

Giles said, as soon as he saw Spike, "What's he doing here?"

Smirking, Spike said, "Just out for a jaunt. Thought I'd swing by and say howdy."

Humorlessly, Giles said, "Out." Daria had no idea what Spike had done to warrant this treatment from the rest of Buffy's friends. Not that she was particularly bothered by it. She was just curious.

Looking up from her map, Buffy said, "He's here because we need him."

Angrily, Xander said, "The hell we do."

"If Glory finds us," Buffy said, "He's one of the few people here with any chance of protecting Dawn."

Xander pointed to Daria and said, "Daria has Faith inside her. I'd trust her before I'd trust Spike. Hell, I'd trust _Faith_ before I'd trust Spike."

"I appreciate your high evaluation of my worth as a human being," Daria said.

Buffy said irritably, "I think when Daria showed up we had a similar show of hands. Wasn't a democracy then, isn't one now. Spike stays. Daria stays." When Xander opened his mouth, Buffy added, "This isn't a discussion. Get over it." Then she jumped up from the table, grabbed a map, and strode back to the back room, where she slammed the door.

As Spike started driving, Xander came over to Daria and said, "I hope you didn't take that the wrong way --"

"Oh no," Daria said. "I took it the right way. You all loathe Spike, for some reason, and in your estimation I'm slightly better than that. How could I possibly take that as an insult?" Then she walked over to the table. "How are you feeling?" she asked Tara.

"Awake," Tara said. "Mentally, anyway. The, the rest of my body doesn't seem to have caught up yet. Daria must have let a brief worried look cross her face, because Tara said, "I should be fine in, in a day or two. But casting the spell spontaneously like that really drained me. I probably couldn't summon up enough magic right now to, to boil water for tea."

Eventually, Buffy came back out of the bedroom, glaring at everyone in turn except for Daria and Spike. No one said a word, about Spike's presence, or her own, for that matter.

She came up to Daria. "I think you said you had something to tell us?"

"Yes," Daria said. "Dr. Vaughn and I know who Cameron Kim works for. She doesn't know we know, however, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. We still don't know why she was sent to aid me in prison -- or why she's been following me around, recently."

"Who are her employers?" Giles asked.

"Wolfram & Hart," Daria said.

This didn't seem to mean anything to Xander, Dawn, Willow, or Tara. Giles swore and Spike, from his position in the drivers' seat said, "You're bleedin' kidding me."

"Yes. I thought this was the perfect time for some of that wacky humor I'm so well known for," Daria said.

"For the benefit of anyone who isn't aware," Giles said, "Wolfram & Hart is the name of an evil law firm. If I remember correctly, for the past two years they have been Angel's chief opposition."

"You remember correctly," Daria said.

"And we're letting her tag along why?" Xander asked. "For all we know, she's working for Glory."

"Then she would have snatched Tara instead of attacking Glory," Buffy said. "No. She's working her own angle on this, I'm sure. But right now, we're simply keeping her nearby so we can keep an eye on her.

"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer," Anya said. Buffy nodded. "I never liked that. I've always been a big fan of killing your enemies as soon as you identify them. That way there's less chance of them killing you."

"Well, she stays, too," Buffy said. "But I'm not as married to this idea. If she so much as looks at Dawn funny, out she goes."

Daria asked what seemed to her to be a perfectly logical question. "Why would she want to look at Dawn?"

X X X X X

Faith came to in the middle of a crowded RV, barreling down the road -- well, from the feel of things, barreling wasn't the right word. Maybe crawling would've been. Giles was up in front, driving, and Spike was standing in front of her. "Okay," she said, "What's with the road trip?"

"We're running for our lives," Anya said. "Buffy's afraid Glory's going to kill us all." When everyone glared at her, Anya said, "Well, so am I."

This didn't sound like the B she knew. "Hey, B. This true? We really takin' it on the road?" Then it hit her, "And where's the doc?"

"Yeah, it's true," B said. "I don't like having to do it -- I'm supposed to be the Chosen One, after all, all defender-y and everything -- but here we are. And Dr. Vaughn is driving behind us." Then B told her what had happened that morning.

When she was done, Faith said, "Well, I can't say I woulda done it the same -- but then, I ain't had the experience with this hellbitch that you have. If thing's bad enough that you think you need to run, I ain't got standin' to argue."

"I'm glad you understand. If you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to be alone for a bit." B walked to the back of the RV and shut the door.

"So," Anya said perkily. "Who's up for some food?"

"An," Xander said. "Now isn't the time for you to test your cooking skills."

"I may be dead soon," Anya said. "And when I get to wherever I'm going I don't want to hear them say, 'Nice gal. Too bad she never learned to cook.'"

Dawn was heading to the bedroom. Faith caught up with her and said, "You gonna try and cheer up big sis?"

"Yeah. Why. You wanna try?"

"Yeah. See, I kinda get what she's goin' through."

Dawn looked like she wanted to say something up, but said, "Whatever. Just don't make it worse."

Faith knocked on the bedroom door, opened it without waiting for an answer, and said, "Heya, B."

"I meant it when I said I wanted to be alone," she said.

"Yeah. But I'm kinda thinkin' that ain't what you need right now. See, way I see it, this runnin' business's got you more upset than you're even showin' out there. We may not be exactly the same, you and me, but we got one big thing in common. And part of that is that it sucks when we lose." B didn't say anything. "I know you always hated it when you lost to me."

_That_ shook her. Faith knew it would. "I never lost to you," she said.

"Go on tellin' yourself that if it makes you feel better," Faith said. "Anyway, that ain't the important thing. Runnin' feels like losin' to you."

"The bad guys are supposed to run from me," B said. "Not the other way around."

"You wouldn't'a made the call if you didn't have good reason," Faith said. "I know you, B. Maybe it seems like you're givin' up. But this'll give us time to figure out how to beat this bitch."

"That's just it," she said. "I'm not sure we can."

Faith laughed. "'course we can. We're the Chosen Two. And together, we can kick _anyone's_ ass. It's me and you against the world, babe. When do we attack?"

B laughed. Faith had been hoping she would.

And that's when the arrow came through the window.


	10. Last Knight

Author's note: Fight! Fight! Fight! No Daria this part. Couldn't fit her in.

Also: Someone asked why Cameron Kim seems to take the shape of a leopard so often. Remember, she can't change her mass. 123 pounds makes for an undersized jaguar and isn't even close to lion or tiger weight, but makes a nice-sized leopard. Also, it's a form she's familiar with, having taken it so often in the past. I go by the assumption that she's carefully studied what animals have her weight and judged the advantages of each.

Disclaimer: More borrowing from "Spiral," particularly in the Slayerettes' early reaction to the attack. Otherwise, _Buffy_ belongs to Joss, _Daria_ belongs to Glenn, and the original characters belong to me.

X X X X X

It became obvious to Lynette Vaughn that Cameron Kim was simply uncomfortable with the situation. Her attempts to draw the young woman into a conversation -- any kind of conversation -- were met with short answers. She didn't seem hostile, just like she'd rather be somewhere else.

So Lynette turned on the radio and followed the Winnebago. Of course, she almost could have done that on foot. Either the engine in that thing belonged in a Geo Metro, or the driver had a paralyzing fear of going over 35 miles per hour.

So it took her by surprise when, a few hours into their trip when they were somewhere out in the California desert, she heard Cameron Kim say, "Dr. Vaughn" with a tone approaching urgency.

"What is it?"

"Try not to be alarmed. Just look into your rear view mirrors and tell me if you see the same thing I do." Lynette glanced into the mirrors -- and almost ran off the road when she saw the knights charging up behind them -- and to every side of them. What the hell?

"I think this is something they need to know about," Lynette said.

"Me too. Unfortunately, I think we have the only working cell phones."

"I'll honk the horn," Lynette said, and did so. They didn't seem to notice. "Okay, I'll pull up ahead of them --"

She didn't get the chance. Suddenly, it seemed, horses surrounded them and the RV. They mostly seemed to be ignoring Lynette --

And then one of them fired an arrow through the side of the Winnebago.

"Okay," Lynette said grimly. "Now that we know they're not an honor guard, what do we do?"

"I'm not sure --" Cameron began, but was interrupted when a mace came smashing through the back window of Lynette's car. The knight closest to her seemed to be gesturing for them to stop.

Lynette gave him another gesture entirely, then, feeling sorry for the horse, suddenly swerved her car directly into the man. Horse and rider went down.

In the meantime, Cameron Kim was rolling down her window. "What are you doing?" Lynette asked.

"Cameron said. "I may not be big on violence, but when I'm attacked, I like to fight back." And when the next horse and rider passed by, she changed into a leopard and leapt out of the window right onto his back. The startled rider fell off and Cameron jumped off the horse as it went running off into the desert.

There was another rider right behind her. Lynette slammed on her brakes and the horse hit the car, and they both went down as well.

Okay, three down, Lynette thought.

Dozens, unfortunately, to go.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim had no idea who these knights were or why they were attacking.

And honestly, right now, she didn't care. That they were attacking was the important thing.

Would she have leapt out the window if they hadn't smashed the back windshield of Lynette Vaughn's car?

She didn't know. And there were sure as hell better times for self-analysis.

The man she'd knocked off the horse still seemed interested in fighting. He had a sword that he seemed to know how to use.

So she wouldn't fight him. She turned and ran off, chasing some of the other horses. Turning back into a leopard, she easily outdistanced the man, then made a decision. A leopard wasn't the ideal creature here. It would be suicide for her to try to spring on an armed and armored man who knew she was coming.

Time to get creative. Cameron became a wolf and chomped on the legs of the nearest horse, sending it and its rider tumbling to the ground. The way the horse landed on him, he wouldn't be getting up again. Then she turned around and looked. There were still a dozen or so riders behind her. The nearest one seemed fixed on her, and the way he was holding his sword he clearly intended to chop down at her.

So she wasn't there. She started to run towards it, and, timing it as best she could, turned into a grey kangaroo at the last second.

She caught the man completely off guard -- more so when she crashed into him and knocked him off of his horse. As an added bonus, he dropped his sword.

Damn. Time for her to do what she didn't like to do. Like with that minion of Glorificus', what salved her conscience was that the knights had started it. The man was well armored, but the protection didn't extend to his face or neck.

So she turned back into a wolf and, reluctantly, ripped out his throat. Looking around, she noticed more of the knights starting to focus on her. In the distance, Buffy Summers was on the roof of the trailer. They were more or less ignoring Lynette Vaughn, giving her smaller, faster car a wide berth.

Time to get out of the neighborhood. When she finally hit her grown-up weight -- and ever since she was 16 she'd been within five pounds or her current 123 no matter how much she pigged out our starved herself -- she'd been pissed off that she was too heavy to become a cheetah, which despite their length tended to top out at around a hundred pounds. Then she did some research and figured something out: cheetahs might be better sprinters, but pronghorns kept up the speed better. Shifting into pronghorn form, she took off, reaching 60 miles per hour within a few seconds.

A minute later, she was in front of the RV --

There was a knight with spear seconds away from chucking it at the front windshield. He didn't seem to realize Cameron was there.

She turned back into a leopard and jumped.

X X X X X

"What the fuck?" Faith said.

Buffy opened the blinds and looked outside. There were knights on horseback all around them. She couldn't see how many, but there had to be a few dozen at least. Faith looked out next to her. "Shit. Who the hell are these guys?"

"Knights of Byzantium. They want to stop Glory --"

"Then why are they shooting at us?"

"--by destroying her only way to get home. The Key. Dawn."

Then she ran into the main room of the RV. Faith stayed in the back room for a second. Buffy yelled, "Giles!"

"I see them," he said.

"See who?" Spike asked.

"Buncha guys on horses chasin' us," Faith said. "The Doc's okay. That Kim chick jumped one of 'em. Knocked him clean off his horse."

Right then, an arrow hit the wall inches away Spike's head. "Arrows!" Xander said.

Spike said, "Bloody hell!"

"Everyone who can't fight, get down and stay there," Faith said. Dawn, Anya, Willow and Tara hit the floor. "B. Weapons?"

"We're driving one!" Spike said.

"Don't hit the horses!" Willow said.

Buffy said, "We won't," then walked up to Giles. "Aim for the horses."

When Buffy turned back to the main cabin, she saw Faith twirling Olaf's Hammer. "What about this thing?"

"Good idea," Buffy said.

"My idea!" Anya said proudly.

Xander asked, "Did we shake them?" as a sword came through the roof and narrowly missed his head.

"Duck," Faith yelled, then as Xander ducked, kicked the flat of the blade as hard as she could. No one came flying off the roof. Dammit.

Buffy looked around, then yelled, "Xander! Hatch! Faith! Hammer!" Spike, meanwhile, grabbed a frying pan from the top of the stove and brought it up against the point of the sword as hard as he could. The sword disappeared.

Xander came over and boosted Buffy to the roof. Faith tossed Olaf's hammer up to her.

The knight was standing up now, and the sword was nowhere to be seen. "Good job, Spike," she muttered. The second he saw Buffy, the knight charged at her. Damn. No room to use the hammer. She dropped it and punched him twice in the head before he blocked the third blow. Then he grabbed her and they wrestled for a bit before he kicked her in the head and sent her over the side of the RV. If she hadn't managed to grab the rail, she'd have fallen off and been trampled by the knight who was quickly moving up behind her, swinging his mace. The knight still on the roof was standing over her, ready to stomp on her hands.

Suddenly, he fell off the roof, directly onto the trailing knight. They both toppled off onto the pavement. Looking up, she saw Faith standing there.

"Thought you might need the help," she said. "See I was right."

"I could've handled it," she said, but made it obvious that she was joking. She went over and picked up Olaf's hammer. Well behind them, she saw a kangaroo knock a knight off a horse, then become some kind of dog.

Dr. Vaughn seemed to be okay -- the knights seemed to be ignoring her, more or less. She was swerving her car in the way of the knights chasing them, blocking easy access, though a couple of them were slipping by.

Like the two morons who were right that second trying to jump onto the roof. Faith went over and stomped on a pair of hands until the guy yelped and fell off.

The other knight was faster and made it to the roof. If the fact that he was outnumbered bothered him, he didn't let it show. Instead, he swung his flail like a pro.

Facing two Slayers -- one of whom was armed -- he was bound to make a mistake. It happened when his attention lingered on Buffy and the hammer for just a fraction of a second too long. Faith charged the man and grabbed his flail arm with one hand, punching him in the face with the other. Buffy ran up and swept the hammer at his legs, and he dropped his weapon and began screaming in pain.

Buffy didn't bother getting fancy; she picked the guy up and pitched him off the side of the Winnebago.

Cameron Kim, meantime, had taken the shape of some kind of antelope and was quickly catching up to them. They seemed to have outdistanced their pursuers.

Faith said, twirling the flail, "Cool. We got ourselves a souvenir."

Buffy's answer was cut off by a jolt from the front of the RV. Then a second one, even harder. She and Faith were thrown flat as the vehicle twisted and turned violently, but they managed to avoid falling off.

As they stood up, Buffy saw Cameron Kim, out of the corner of her eye, ripping out the throat of one final knight. The rest were falling way behind.

"What the hell was that?" Faith asked.

Buffy didn't answer, knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't have been good. She said, "Look out below, dropped the hammer down, and jumped down into the cabin. Faith jumped after her.

Giles was lying down on the cabin floor. Spike was pressing towels on his left shoulder, while Dawn and Anya were doing their best to clean it off.

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

Giles said, obviously in pain, "One last knight. He threw a spear through the windshield. Right as he threw it, a leopard leapt onto the rider, throwing off his aim and knocking him off the horse. The spear caught me in the shoulder."

"What was that second bump?"

"Oh. That," Giles said. "That would be when we hit the horse. Not head on, thankfully, or we'd all be in the middle of a pile of junk right about now."

From the front of the Winnebago, Xander said, "We already are."

Buffy ran up to the front. "What do you mean?"

Xander pointed to one of the gauges. "Now, I'm not an expert on the subject," he said. "But I kinda think having that needle be up in the red is a bad thing. I think hitting the horse must've damaged the radiator, or something."

"Any chance of pushing this thing to the next town?"

"Only if you mean literally."

Damn. There was no way they'd all fit in Dr. Vaughn's car, even if Cameron Kim became a snake and Spike rode in the trunk. They'd have to stop and think for a bit -- "There," she said. "See that building?"

"The abandoned gas station?" Xander said dubiously.

"Yeah. Drive there." Xander obeyed and immediately swerved off the road. "Hold on back there," Buffy called out, a little late. "No. Not in front. We don't want the Knights of Byzantium to be able to see us from the road."

Xander maneuvered the Winnebago to a stop. "Everyone out and inside!" There were no exits in the back of the building, so they had to run around the front. Buffy carried the hammer in one hand while supporting Giles with the other, Faith carried Tara, and Spike ran ahead and kicked the door in. Dr, Vaughn followed them inside. Cameron Kim was nowhere to be seen.

Spike and Buffy lifted Giles onto a long, dusty counter. "This is entirely unnecessary," Giles said. "I'll be fine --"

"G-Man," Xander said, "I take a back seat to no one when it comes to getting how tough you are. But, come on, man -- you had five feet of wood sticking out of your left shoulder. In no possible dimension is that 'fine.'"

"Actually --" Anya began, then grew quiet when Xander glared at her.

"Prop up his head," Dr. Vaughn said. "And let me take a look at it." She went over to examine Giles' injured shoulder.

"Is everyone okay?" Buffy said. Everyone said they were. Buffy walked over to Dawn. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. But what about leopardwoman?"

"Last we saw of her," Faith said, "She was chowin' down on a knight's throat. We might not trust her, but I gotta give the girl her props: She kicked _major_ ass out there. Hope she figures out where we are."

"Ditto," Buffy said distractedly, as she went over to sneak a look through the boarded-up windows. No, she still didn't trust the shapeshifter either. But this had been her chance to turn and run, and instead she'd done her damnedest to protect them.

There was no one outside. No large out-of-place animals either.

From behind her, Anya said, "You have another plan, right? One that doesn't involve pointy knives and a Winnebago?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Give me a minute. Dr. Vaughn?"

"What is it?" the psychiatrist asked as she ripped up sections of Giles' shirt, apparently to use as a bandage.

"First, how is he?"

"It's a relatively clean wound," she said. "I've staunched the bleeding for the moment, and cleaned it off as best as I could. Still, he's going to need to get to a hospital. It isn't an emergency, but I wouldn't go on any long side trips.

"Good." That was something of a load off. "Second, how many people can you fit into your car?"

"Five, if the three in the back are friendly," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"Okay. Take Tara, Dawn, Giles, and Faith with you. We'll hole up here until you --" Her speech was interrupted by the flaming arrow that came flying through one of the windows. "Get down!" Buffy yelled as more arrows came into the building.

Faith crawled over to the windows and snuck a look out. "Well, B, looks like King Arthur himself is out there. And he brought every damn knight of the round table with him. What do you want us to do now?"

Good question.


	11. The Siege

Author's Note: Spiraling away from _Spiral_ here, though I still borrow a couple of stray phrases. Take a look at what isn't happening.

Disclaimer: _Daria, Buffy_, the original characters: Glenn, Joss, me.

X X X X X

Faith ducked down as more arrows came flying in.

B yelled, "Willow!"

Willow, with Tara looking over her shoulder, was flipping through a book of spells. "Working on it!" she yelled.

Meantime, B and Spike shoved some kind of machine against the door. Faith picked up the hammer and tossed it to B when she was done, then got her souvenir flail. The Doc moved behind the counter, with Xander's help. Then he and Anya hit the floor, too.

There were chopping sounds from outside. "They're tryin' to break down the windows!" Faith yelled, and yanked Dawn away from one of the outside walls. Right after, an axe came through the boards about a foot from where Dawn had been. Faith grabbed the axe and jerked it from whoever was on the other end, then tossed it near Xander. He picked it up.

"Coulda been you instead of the window," Faith said as she threw the axe. "Stay back." Dawn gulped and moved back with Giles and the rest.

Another knight was attacking B. Spike punched the guy, then yelled and started holding his head. But that gave B her chance, and she took it.

B had it under control there, Willow and Tara were still working on their spell, and everyone else was trying to stay down, so Faith took the flail and started pounding away at every hand and weapon she saw. They managed to collect two more axes and some kind of mace that way, and she was fairly sure she'd broken a couple of hands as well.

Unfortunately, she couldn't be everywhere at once, and another knight smashed through, closer to B than her. Older man. He stopped as soon as he saw B, pointed his sword over at Dawn, and said, "The Key" in one of those voices that make you realize the person's never not taken anything seriously.

B charged him and hit the sword with the hammer as hard as she could. It smacked into the gas station floor. While the guy was distracted with B, Faith came over and bopped him over the head with the business end of the flail. He went down like a bag of wet sand.

By now, the witchy pair had figured something out. Willow's eyes went black and scary and she chanted, "Enemies, fly and fall. Circling arms, raise a wall." Then she lifted her arms and light spread out from them. Faith ducked, but the light didn't bother her at all. Once it was past, she looked outside. About a dozen knights were getting up and dusting themselves off, while a couple others started pounding on Willow's force field.

Faith raised her eyebrows. "Nice job, Red," she said.

Willow seemed surprised by the unexpected compliment, but before she could say anything B asked her, "How long will it hold?"

"Maybe half a day," she said, then came over to look out the window. Whatever she saw, she wasn't too happy about, "Or till Heckle and Jeckle punch a hole through it."

The Doc stood up and asked the obvious question, "Who are these people?"

"They call themselves the Knights of Byzantium," B said bitterly. "They want to stop Glory -- but instead of doing it the hard way, they just figure they'll kill Dawn and call it a day."

"Because she's the Key," the Doc said. "I get it, now."

"How did you know that?"

"When Cameron Kim mentioned it back in Mr. Harris' apartment," the Doc said, "Dawn was scared -- and scared for herself. Don't worry. Miss Kim didn't seem to notice. I think she was a bit too busy being thrown against a wall to notice much of anything else right about then. And I'm not going to tell her."

"I didn't think you would," B said. Then she went over to look over the knight Faith'd knocked out earlier. "Good job," she said when she stood up. "You hit him just hard enough."

"What do you think I am, an amateur?" Faith said. "I figured you'd either wanna ask him questions are use him as a hostage. Anyway, I gave up that whole killin' people thing."

"So far, so good," B said.

"I doubt very much they'll negotiate," Giles said, struggling to stand up. The Doc went over and made him sit down again.

"Then that leaves door number one," B said. "We interrogate him. So, let's get him nice and secure, slap him awake, and find out exactly what this bastard knows."

X X X X X

Cameron Kim looked up from tearing out the knight's throat to see at least a few dozen others bearing down on her from one direction -- some them starting to raise bows -- and the RV and Dr. Vaughn's car disappearing in the other.

She immediately shifted back into pronghorn form and ran after the Winnebago. Before she got very far, though, she began to feel arrows come whistling past her. Shit. If she stayed on the road, she'd be an easy target.

So she veered off into the desert, zigzagging as best she could. A look behind her showed a couple of knights starting to chase after her, but they were held back by one of the others (Pronghorns had excellent eyesight -- much better distance vision than humans.) That they didn't chase after her didn't mean they didn't send arrow after arrow in her direction, not stopping until she was a good half mile off the road and they couldn't see her any more.

Cameron stopped to catch her breath, and looked around. Far off in the distance, she could see a building -- and it looked like an RV was parked behind it where it couldn't be seen from the road. It must have broken down

The knights, by this point, were certainly keeping an eye out for any animals, or people, who appeared out of place -- or probably, even those who looked like they belonged in the middle of California. She didn't dare try to sneak up as a mule deer or mountain lion, making the assumption that the knights would probably shoot first and ask questions later.

She wasn't angry at the Slayer, or even Daria Morgendorffer, for not coming back for her. Self-preservation was the name of the game, and if they'd tried to rescue Cameron they could have been caught or killed themselves.

Still, it did leave her with something of a practical problem: She was alone in the middle of nowhere, without so much as a canteen -- and her cell phone was still in her purse, in the car. She'd never get close enough to it, not with those knights around.

Which meant her only way out of here was a long and arduous journey over the land -- and her animal forms weren't much better suited for that than she was.

Speaking of which: The knights seemed to have figured out that the Slayer and her friends were holed up in there. They quickly ranged themselves around the front of the building and started shooting arrows inside.

A few of them moved around the back, though they satisfied themselves with a quick look through the car and trailer. Cameron guessed they figured the people trapped inside weren't going anywhere.

Unfortunately, without the people trapped inside, neither was she.

She was going to have to try to help them escape.

How, was the question.

X X X X X

Daria came to in the middle of an abandoned building of some kind. Everyone who'd left on the road trip out of Sunnydale was there, except for Cameron Kim. Willow and Tara were studying a book of some kind. Dr. Vaughn was looking at Giles' shoulder, which appeared to be bandaged up. Dawn simply looked scared. "Faith does this on purpose. I know she does," she said.

Buffy said, "Huh?"

"It's like we're playing a game of can-you-top-this. I summoned her, last time, as we were moving down the road at a pace slightly greater than a snail's. Her response is to bring me out again in the middle of this abandoned building. Which, if I'm correct, was not actually our destination."

"We could do without the sarcasm," Buffy said.

"Sorry. It builds up inside me. I have to let it out at periodic intervals, or I'll explode, leaving shards of cynicism all over the place that would be sharp enough to fell a bull elephant. I have too high a regard for humanity to allow that to happen." Buffy's expression grew even more irritable. "And on that note, what's going on here?"

Buffy told her. "It appears my timing was perfect, then," Daria said. "Faith was a good deal more useful during that fight than I would have been." Daria had confidence in her abilities, but she would have balked at climbing onto the roof of a moving Winnebago. Faith apparently hadn't had to think twice. "So if we're still under siege, why call me in? I'll do my best when the shield collapses, but --"

"Because the shield isn't going to come down for several hours yet," Buffy said. "Faith brought down their leader when he broke into the building a couple of hours back, and we've been grilling him ever since."

"Did you obtain anything useful?"

"Unless you consider a sneering attitude about how killing my sister is really the will of god and would be for the benefit of all mankind, so not only should we not be resisting them, we should be doing it ourselves, no."

"I suspect," Daria said, "That if God truly wanted someone dead he could do it more directly than by sending a lynch mob of renaissance fair rejects."

"True. Also doesn't help us a whole hell of a lot. Faith decided to bring you out because right now we need your brains more than we need her fighting skills." Hmm. Faith was smart; Daria knew this. So either Faith had told them that for some reason, or that's why Buffy thought Faith did it. Didn't matter. She was here either way. And, she supposed, a different perspective couldn't hurt.

"How many knights are out there?" Daria asked.

"At least three dozen, no more than fifty. Way too many for us to be able to fight our way out, even, if we were at full strength."

"So we're looking for alternatives to a quixotic last stand."

"Desperately," Buffy said.

Daria thought. "Since they want Dawn, is it possible they'd stop if she weren't here?"

"You're thinking teleportation?" Willow asked. Daria said she was. "No. I don't have that kind of directional control yet. And we couldn't get her anywhere near a safe distance away."

"Being a mile out in the desert, or even a mile up, up the road, wouldn't be, you know, much better than where she is now," Tara said.

So that avenue was out. "Is the shield completely impermeable?"

"Yes," Willow said a little irritably.

"Calm down," Daria said. "I was thinking of the way you phrased the spell -- that _enemies_ were to fly and fall."

"So, your idea was that we go out and throw things at them?" Buffy asked.

"That's one possibility," Daria said.

Willow said, "Good idea. But the only way anything's getting through the shield is if it comes down. Whether it's the two stooges out there doing it, or me."

"Does it have to be the entire shield?"

Frowning in thought, Willow said, "No. I can open doorways and close them again. Fairly quickly, too."

"They're ringing the whole place," Buffy said. "Most of them are out front, but there are enough around back that we couldn't sneak out."

"I hadn't thought about that. Too bad. It would be quite a surprise for them if they waited for the shield to come down and found out we weren't here any longer."

"So, what's your thinking?" Buffy asked.

"What I'm thinking is, why should we let the two priests try to disintegrate Willow's shield? Let's go out there, have Willow open a hole and we can pull them inside. Then we can render them unconscious. If nothing else, that'll give us at least as much time as takes for the shield to fall on its own, which should be . . ."

"At least another eight hours, give or take," Willow said.

"How big do these doorways have to be?" Buffy asked.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Arrow slits," Buffy said. "Give us a way to throw things at them while making it hard for them to throw back."

"That, that would work better if we had anything to throw at them." Tara said.

From the back of the room, Dr. Vaughn said, "We have the entire contents of a Winnebago. And whatever's in my trunk."

"Do you really think throwing a spare tire or a frying pan will cause an armored knight much damage?" Giles asked.

"It's better than the non-damage we're causing them right now," Buffy said.

"If we denude the two vehicles of everything capable of being thrown," Daria said, "They're going to figure out we're up to something."

"Yeah," Buffy said, "But I'm betting that won't be the first thing they think of. They're more likely to think that we're setting up for a long siege, not getting ready to chuck frying pans at their skulls. Well, Will?"

"I'm not sure," Willow said. "I can try, and if it doesn't work, we can move on to something else."

"In the meantime, I like Daria's suggestion about disabling the priests. Worst-case scenario, they back off, but if they back off, they won't be trying to bring down the shield. While we're out there, Will, you can try the arrow slit idea."

"So, that helps us in the short run," Dr. Vaughn said. "What about the long run?"

"I'm still working on that," Buffy said.

"Maybe we could call for help," Daria suggested.

Right then, Spike walked into the room. "General destruction back there still isn't saying anything useful," Spike said. "I had to stuff the gag back into his mouth to get him to shut up. He says one more think about what a great idea it'd be to kill the bit, I'm gonna kill him, I don't care how fucking big a headache I get. And calling for help. Great idea. You expect the Knights of Byzantium to come rushing to our aid? Only one out there likely to be even halfway on our side is that Kim bint, and that's assumin' she's not halfway to Los Angeles by now."

"I wasn't suggesting we scream," Daria said. "Dr. Vaughn, did you bring your purse?"

"Yes," the psychiatrist said, grinning. "And I think I know where you're going." She reached into it and pulled out her cell phone.

"And who are you suggesting we call?"

"How about Angel?" Giles asked. "I realize he and Wesley and Cordelia might not be able to do much damage, but --"

"I actually hadn't been thinking Angel," Daria said, "Though I suppose it can't hurt. Here's my reasoning," Daria said. "Here we are. Ten innocent people, out for a drive in the country, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a gang of heavily armed men attacks us. One of us is injured, and our RV is damaged, but we somehow manage to reach the shelter of this gas station when they surround us. And now, here we are, waiting for them to make their next move -- and it's terrifying how they're just sitting there, waiting."

"Is there a point to this little revisionist fable of yours?" Spike asked in an annoyed tone.

"Patience, grasshopper," Daria said. "My point is, and forgive me if this violates an unwritten rule of being a Slayer, but I was thinking we might use Dr. Vaughn's cell phone to call the police."


	12. Hammer and a Nail

Author's Note: Hashing things out. One scene, two viewpoints. And thanks to everyone for their reactions to Daria's suggestion at the end of the last chapter. I've incorporated, or reacted, to a few of them in the story.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine. Except for Dr. Vaughn and Cameron Kim.

X X X X X

Buffy said, "We can't."

"Why not?" Daria asked.

"It's just not the way we handle things," Buffy insisted. "We never bring the cops in when anything supernatural is involved."

"Which makes sense," Daria said, "And if we were involved with an army of vampires, a gaggle of werewolves or a horde of onrushing demons, I'd agree with you. But we're not. The Knights of Byzantium are human. Humans in armor, riding horses, and carrying medieval weaponry, but human nonetheless."

Spike said, "There's at least one of us around here who isn't fully human."

Daria couldn't resist. "I'm sure if you put some effort into it, you can pass for one."

"Ha bloody ha," Spike said. "Point is, I can't leave this place when the sun is still outside shining away. I'm no big believer in the intelligence of most police, but I think even the dumbest of them would notice my Human Torch impression." Interesting that Spike assumed that Daria knew he was a vampire. She _did_, but no one had explicitly pointed that out, and while Faith had told her that Slayers tended to instinctively react to the presence of the supernatural, Daria lacked Slayer instincts. Faith had explained it one night in one of their nightly dreamland training session.

"It's almost dark now," Daria pointed out. "If we wait an hour or so, that shouldn't be a problem. Any other objections?"

"The shield," Willow said, "They'd notice the shield."

Daria frowned for a second. That could present a problem. "I can see the risk there," she admitted. "If we lower it too soon, it won't matter what the police do."

"So, A for effort, but --" Buffy began.

Help came from an unexpected quarter. "Don't be too hasty in dismissing Ms. Morgendorffer's idea, Buffy," Giles said. "It's such an obvious one I'm surprised we haven't thought of it before."

"I'm not," Dr. Vaughn said. "It's about patterns. It's very easy for people to get locked into one way of looking at things -- especially under stressful circumstances such as yours. It can be hard to break away from that pattern. It's something we're all guilty of."

"When the only tool you have is a hammer," Tara said, "Every problem starts to look like a nail."

Everyone turned to look at Olaf's Hammer, which Buffy was leaning on. "Well," she muttered, "It's not our _only_ tool . . ."

After a second, Spike said, "So, Watcher, if you think it's such a bloody brilliant idea, what would _you_ do about the shield?"

"I'd drop it shortly after I heard the sirens," Giles said. "I, like you, place no great faith in the ability of most police departments, but perhaps we need to remind ourselves that not every police department in the country is as incompetent as Sunnydale's."

"And, and thank the Goddess for that," Tara said.

"So," Daria said. "Anyone else have any thoughts?"

Buffy said, "We're not exactly unarmed, ourselves. How are we going to explain Olaf's Hammer, Faith's souvenir flail, and that collection of axes and swords over there in the corner?"

Daria said, "I'm assuming we have no sentimental attachment to anything but the hammer and the flail. So that one's easy. We can simply dump the pile outside the shield. As for the other two . . . Maybe we can say that the hammer is a sledgehammer of some sort, if we're asked, and we can always hide the flail. We're the victims here. I'm not sure they'll be watching us as carefully as the armored goons swinging the swords."

"Or," Willow said thoughtfully, "I could probably come up with a spell to keep anything hidden we want to hide from the police."

Spike whirled and told Willow, "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"The side that's most likely to get us out of here alive, and get Giles to a hospital," Willow said. "And right now, most of my objections have been answered. I'm not going to keep arguing against it just because I'm not overly fond of the person who came up with the idea. That's not thinking clearly." Spike scowled, but said nothing.

"Simply to play devil's advocate," Giles said, "I can think of another one, if I may. Publicity. If two dozen police, of whatever stripe, come roaring up with their sirens going full bore, most likely followed by an ambulance or two, someone's going to know about it."

"Which means Glory, eventually, would hear about it," Buffy said. "And if we're still holed up in some sheriff's office answering questions when she finds out, she's going to come out here as fast as she can."

"We're a good two hours outside of Sunnydale," Daria said. "And I doubt even she could run all this way -- or that she'd necessarily be able to locate the police station on notice that short."

"And Glory's a moron," Spike said. "She likely wouldn't be able to find this place without someone guidin' her every step of the way."

"Whose side are you on?" Daria asked, smiling faintly.

"Don't get me wrong, _Faith,_" he said. "I still think your idea's daft. Just saying that her blondeness isn't the sharpest arrow in the quiver."

"And why else do you think the idea is daft?" Daria asked.

"Well, for one, I doubt the authorities are going to look too kindly on us kidnapping our friend the general in there."

"That, that's easy," Tara said. "When we toss the weapons out, we can toss him along with them."

"Okay then," spike said, clearly unwilling to give up just yet. "Here's one you won't be able to wiggle out of quite so easy. I stole the damn Winnebago."

"Hmmm," Giles said. "That could present a bit of a problem."

Willow, apparently fully convinced by now, said, miming both parts of a conversation, "'"You're kiddin' me. Stolen?" 'Yes, sir.' 'God damn it to hell. If I ever catch the bastard who sold it to me --'" After a second, she added, "What do you think?"

"Quite possibly the worst imitation of Spike I've ever heard," Giles said.

"Oh, good. Another round of 'Kick the Spike," Spike said.

"Me next," Daria said, "And guess where I'm aiming."

"I meant what did you think of my idea?" Willow said.

Daria thought for a second. "Plausible," she said. "Though I agree, so far that is the biggest sticking point, and the one most likely to cause us the most trouble. So let's balance it out. On one hand. We have to talk to the police about a stolen RV, and convince them quickly enough that an angry Hellgod can't track us down. On the other hand, we have a very good chance of us all being slaughtered by sword-wielding maniacs. I can see how that might be a tough call. For some people."

"Okay," Buffy said abruptly. "Someone get Xander, Anya, and Dawn in here -- especially Dawn -- and let's take a vote." Willow stood up and headed for the back of the gas station.

"I thought this wasn't a democracy," Giles said.

"It is when I say it is," Buffy said.

Daria forbore from mentioning that this didn't actually constitute a democracy. For one thing, she suspected that Buffy Summers knew this already and probably wouldn't appreciate having the irony pointed out to her; and two, Daria was getting what she wanted, anyway.

Willow returned with Xander, Anya, and Dawn in two. Spike said, "I'm moving over here by the door so I can keep an eye on the general in there. We have to make sure he doesn't get any bright ideas."

Xander asked, "What's going on?"

Buffy explained Daria's idea in reasonably neutral terms. It seemed as though she were still against it, but at least she was willing to give it a fair hearing. "Anyway," she concluded, "I thought you guys should get a chance to hash out the idea along with the rest of us, before we take a vote on it."

Xander said, "Hey, Buff. I thought you said this wasn't a democracy."

"Giles already worked that angle," Buffy said.

"Damn," Xander said. "I really don't mind if my jokes tank, but it sucks when they're not original." Then, despite the circumstances, he managed a grin. "Still, it means I'm rubbing off on you, Giles."

"Yes," the Watcher said wryly, "And I beg you not to remind me of that in the future."

Buffy seemed to realize she was losing control of the situation. "Anyway," she said firmly. "What do you think?"

Dawn said, "I like it."

"Could you be a little more forthcoming, niblet?" Spike asked.

Dawn shrugged, "Not really. It just seems likely that by calling the police I'll have a better chance of getting out of this alive. Think of it this way. You're at the top of a tall building. Really tall. And you're trapped up there by someone who's about to kill you -- and your only way out is to jump off the roof. Are you going to take that one percent chance that you'd survive the drop, or just stand there and wait to die?"

Sound reasoning, if somewhat on the pessimistic side. And, Daria reflected, if _she_ was calling someone pessimistic, they must have just said something really gloomy."

"Xander? Anya?" Buffy asked.

"Makes sense to me," Xander said.

Anya added, "Yes. By all means. As long as we're still not in the jurisdiction of the Sunnydale Police Department." Giles assured her that they were not. "In that case, no problems here."

"Okay, then," Buffy said. "Since we've heard from everyone --"

"Not quite everyone," Daria said. "I have no idea what she's going to say, but I'd like to get Faith's input on this as well. Give us a kiss."

X X X X X

Faith came to still in the gas station. Everyone was in the room except that general she'd bopped over the head. "So," she said, "I'm guessin' the siege ain't over yet. What's goin' on?"

Giles said, "Miss Morgendorffer appears to have come up with an obvious, yet radical, solution to our current difficulties," he said.

"Yeah? What?"

"She wants us to call the bleedin' cops," Spike said.

Okay, she knew the situation was serious, she knew they were surrounded by an army of nutjobs in armor willing to slice their way through everyone in the room to get to Dawn, but she couldn't help herself: she burst out laughing. Once she caught her breath, she said, "Damn. Leave it to DM to come up with a plan none of the rest of us would've even thought of."

"I wouldn't've thought you had much use for the police," Spike said.

"Me? You know, a couple years ago I would've said you could put 'em all at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean for all I cared, but a year or so in jail taught me a bit different. I ain't about to stick 'support your local police' stickers all over whatever ride I scare up next, but they're not _all_ crooks and fools. That said, though, seems to me DM forgot a couple of things."

"What's that?" B asked.

"First thing is, she and I just got out of jail ourselves."

"You're not violating your probation, are you?" Giles asked.

"Naah. DM's Aunt Amy managed to score us an outright release. We don't have to report to anyone; I could've boarded a plane to Australia half an hour after I got out and went and hung out with the kangaroos for the next five years, and no one in LA County law would've officially given a damn. Not what I meant. I was thinkin' more that the cops might get suspicious. Yeah, I got official sanction from a couple of psychiatrists and the LA County DA, but there are people out there who think DM's a lyin' bitch who pulled one over on people." Spike seemed to want to say something, but at twin glares from B and Giles he stopped. Faith had no idea what had gotten B to trust the vamp; it hadn't come up yet, and there hadn't really been a good time to ask. "Not everyone," Faith went on, "But enough that it might be a problem. Which brings up hassle number two."

"Daria's famous," the Doc said.

"Yup. She doesn't even like to think about it, not that I blame her, but DM's got books written about her, and when she was found in jail, and then released, it was news all over the country."

"The world," the Doc said quietly. "The world."

"Okay, so, the world. Folks in Sunnydale might not've mobbed her too much, but if she shows up in this story it's _definitely_ gonna be news. It ain't just about the pub that capturin' a gang of men ridin' horses would bring, it's that they're gonna be menacin' Daria Morgendorffer as well."

"The tumult does appear to have died down in recent weeks," Giles said.

"Died down ain't dead and gone. One thing we gotta understand if we do this is that it's not gonna be a question of whether we get pub, but when. And when we do we gotta be ready to get the hell out of whatever fuck-all nowhere sheriff's office we end up in as fast as we can. The knights out there might be crippled by hypin' their existence. It ain't gonna mean jack to someone as hopped up as Glory, though."

"After all that, I'm still not sure whether that's a yes or a no," B said.

"Oh, it's a definite yes. The choice is between a heroic death and callin' the cops and workin' through some issues, we call the cops, no question. It's just that we're not goin' to be able to keep drivin' across country like this if we wanna stay a step ahead of the hellgod."

"Of course we won't," Spike explained, like he thought Faith was stupid. "The Winnebago's not goin' anywhere, love. If the bloody thing hadn't overheated we wouldn't be caught here in the first place."

"Not what I mean, blondie," Faith said. "I mean, we need to get ourselves good and lost -- which means we need to get hell and gone away from Sunnydale, and a lot faster than we've been getting so far. So, after we call the cops -- we are gonna call 'em, right?" Everyone around the room nodded, except Spike, who seemed disgusted but not like he was going to argue the point any further. "Good. So, like I was sayin', after we call the cops, we need to get to the nearest airport and fly ourselves the fuck out of the neighborhood."


	13. The Better Part

Author's Note: So what _has_ the Divine Glorificus been up to, anyway? Also, any resemblance between "State Highway 103" and any actual California State Highway with that number is strictly coincidental. For all I know, California Highway

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all _Buffy_ characters and appurtenances. Glenn Eichler holds the same for _Daria_. I own Dr. Vaughn, Cameron Kim, and this specific alteration of the plot.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus woke up that night still in one of Ben's hospital outfits. She stripped it off of her as quickly as she could and dressed herself in a smashing red gown, then summoned her minions back. God! The struggles she went to being attached to this loser. No one understood the _hassles_ of being shackled to someone like this.

"Okay," she told the minions. "It's obviously been a while. Several hours at least. So I assume you've either captured my Key, or at least know where she is." None of them answered her. "Right?" she demanded.

"Um, your wondrousness," the one called Mesh began. "Far be it from me to contradict the words which fall from your radiant lips, but --"

"You don't have them, _and_ you don't know where they are," Glory said. When none of her minions answered, she said, "However unhappy you think I'm going to be if you tell me you don't have them, multiply that by ten and imagine that for angry I'm going to be the next time one of you refuses to answer a simple question."

One of them finally said, "No, Divine One."

"Rrrrrrr!" Glory said. "I ask you people to do one simple thing, and you can't even get that right. Well, go on, tell me. What's your excuse?"

Gronx said, "They seem to have, um, disappeared."

Glory laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. The Slayer wouldn't just disappear."

"We can't find her," Gronx said.

"And we've looked everywhere!" another one added.

'That Glory didn't murder these little deviants on the spot was proof of how divine and godlike she really was. "Well, if you haven't _found_ them yet, _obviously_ you haven't looked everywhere."

"We've looked everywhere she's likely to be, your beauty," Mesh said. "She isn't at her home, that magic shop, the college, or the crypt of that vampire she seemed so fond of last month. And her friends aren't there either. And they aren't anywhere else we've seen."

"Keep looking," Glory said firmly.

"Begging your pardon, Divine One," another minion said. "But, we were thinking, what if she's, you know, run away?"

"I don't pay you to think," Glory said. "I pay you to do what I say. I say the Slayer couldn't have run away because the Slayer isn't the type of person _to_ run away. She still thinks she can beat me."

"We get paid?" Gronx asked.

"It's a metaphor, dumbass," Glory said. "Now. You say you haven't found her and you've been looking all day?" General nods from around the room. "Well, then, look all night. And _don't_ come back until you've found her."

Then she went out to do some looking herself. The minions, after all, _were _idiots.

X X X X X

Figuring out a way to help the people stuck inside the gas station proved harder than Cameron Kim had thought. The witch had set up some kind of force field, and while it didn't seem to be killing anyone who touched it Cameron was fairly sure that if it wouldn't let the knights through, it wouldn't let her through either.

The problem was, of course, that her phone was in there. She felt sure that Wolfram & Hart would at least _know_ something about these knights, if not want to do something about them. Something about them screamed "force of good," which made her wonder what they were doing attacking the Slayer. She hadn't thought the real world played out like Marvel Comics, where the good guys fought each other every other issue; she'd thought those behaviors were limited to those on the bad guy side of the equation.

Personally, Cameron liked that there were good guys out there trying to help people, even if she wasn't one herself. She wasn't committed to the Wolfram & Hart ideology. She worked for them because she'd signed a contract, and once she struck a bargain she held up her end of it. If the good guys had gotten to her first, she'd be working for them.

Anyway. Her cell phone was somewhere inside the shield. And these knights seemed to be sticklers for authenticity, so she couldn't rely on being able to steal one away from them. It was too far to run.

That left picking the knights off as best she could. They weren't attacking her now, so she didn't want to kill any of them. So, becoming a leopard, a wolf, or anything else predatory was out. Leopards weren't built to knock things unconscious. They were built to kill.

Pronghorns and kangaroos were out as well, for obvious reasons. And anacondas couldn't suffocate any of these bozos, given all the armor they were wearing.

That left something strong enough to do them damage even through their armor.

Orangutan it was, then.

Of the forty or so knights that surrounded the building -- and those were the ones moving around, Cameron couldn't tell how many wounded there were -- all but four or five were concentrated around the front. There were just enough scattered towards the back to stop the Slayer and her friends from bursting out the back, jumping into the vehicles, and trying to clear out of the area, at least without sufficient warning.

But that gave her her opportunity. The five in the back were pacing, only had a couple of torches to light their way, and seemed irritable. It had been hours since they'd "driven her off" into the desert, and for a couple of those hours she'd moved out further into the desert, where they couldn't see her, in the hopes that out of sight would be out of mind. It seemed to have worked. No one was looking outward. Three of them were staring at the building -- surely one of the most boring guard duties known to humanity -- while the other two were walking back and forth.

The three standing still were too close together. She'd have to get one of the patrollers.

She became a black leopard -- Cameron had grown up thinking "panther" was what everyone else called "cougar" or "mountain lion" -- and crept as close as she could, using what little cover was available, plus the cover of darkness.

Right there. For about ten seconds, the closet knight was out of sight of his friends. At the furthest point of his patrol, Cameron ran out of the darkness, leapt on him, changed to an orangutan mid-flight, and smacked him in the face as hard as she could.

The man went down without a struggle. She didn't have time to strip his armor off, so she grabbed his mace, hurled it off into the blackness -- it must have landed a good hundred feet away -- and ripped his helmet off of his head, doing the same thing to it. Then she hit him in the back of the head again and ran back into cover, resuming her black leopard form as she did so.

His absence was discovered within twenty seconds. When he didn't reappear, two of the other knights came running over.

Cameron noticed this only in passing. Once she'd run back to the cover of darkness, she'd sprinted around the building to where the other knight was patrolling.

He wasn't alone, either. Still, neither of them was watching her, which gave her the opportunity for a maneuver straight out of slapstick comedy. Bounding out of the darkness, she shifted into orangutan form, leapt into the air --

And clanged their two helmets together as hard as she could.

Unlike her previous maneuver, this one was loud and obvious. So instead of sticking around, she grabbed the weapons from the stunned knight's hands and ran out into the desert as far as she could before hurling the two swords as far as she could.

She heard the other two chasing after her. Idiots.

One was felled when she knocked him down from behind, took off his helmet, and knocked him unconscious. The other when she took that one's mace, took her _human_ form, and smashed him in the knees as he charged her.

The tumult had definitely attracted even more attention. Discretion was rapidly becoming the better part of valor.

Still, she hadn't made it as far as she had at Wolfram & Hart by being discreet.

Five down.

Good start.

X X X X X

"Vampires and planes don't mix very well," Spike said.

"Yeah. You know, your welfare isn't all that high on my priority list," Faith said. "Glory thinks she wants Tara over there and actually wants Dawn. Gettin' them the hell out of Dodge, that's the important thing."

Lynette said, "Then we can try to make sure the plane takes off not long after sundown and that wherever we land, we do it well before sunrise. We should be able to hop the country in two days that way."

"Which brings up another difficulty," Rupert Giles said. "That being funding. Between all of us we might be able to get Buffy, Dawn and Tara on a red-eye flight to Montana."

"Between all of you, maybe," Faith said. "But DM's got fifty grand at her disposal -- you'd have to ask her, of course, but --"

Lynette knew Faith wasn't actually volunteering Daria's money without her permission, but that money was to help set up Daria's future. "No," she said. "If we need to go anywhere, I'll cover it."

"Dr. Vaughn," Buffy Summers said, "We can't ask you to --"

"You're not asking," Lynette said. "I'm insisting. My husband and I don't exactly have so much money we don't know what to do with it, but we can cover the cost of 10-11 cross-country plane tickets without breaking a sweat."

"It's a very generous offer," Giles said, but --"

"It's not an offer at all," Lynette said. "It's the only way to get this done. You need to keep Dawn and Miss MacLay out of the grasp of that woman. The only way to do that is to get so far ahead of her that she'll never be able to find you. And the only way to do _that_ is on an airplane."

Buffy said, "I've already said no once. That's as polite as I need to be. Dr. Vaughn, we accept your offer. Spike, before you say another word, we'll do our best to accommodate you, but Dr. Vaughn's right -- we need speed."

"Wasn't gonna say a word," Spike said. "Because, goddammit to hell, she's right. It's all about protectin' the niblet and the blonde witch over there. Long as you try to make sure I don't become Spike flambé, I'll deal." He still didn't seem happy. But then, it hardly took a trained psychiatrist to notice that.

Buffy said. "Okay. Good. Now. While we're waiting for the police to come in, does anyone think we should deal with the priests?"

"May as well simplify that one, too," Spike said. "All we need now is to hold 'em off. I say we just go out there, Willow drops her hocus-pocus for a few, and we hit the priests over the head. Ought to keep 'em off our backs for as long as we need."

There were sounds of shouting from outside -- specifically, from the back of the building. "What the hell's going on?" Faith asked.

Buffy ran outside; a minute later, she came back in. "We take care of the priests _now,_" she said. "Faith, grab your flail. Will, drop the shield when you hear me say now. I'll explain why when I get back inside."

Faith grabbed the flail and ran back out the front door, following Buffy. Willow moved up near the door, shooing everyone else back. Made perfect sense. The Knights would be suspicious seeing Buffy and Faith come out; seeing everyone else interested in what was happening might have pushed them past suspicion into action.

Lynette couldn't have looked, in any event; she was keeping a close eye on Rupert Giles' shoulder. Her makeshift bandage seemed to be holding, but she'd feel better once he was at a hospital. At that, the man was lucky; a couple of inches down and to the left and the spear could have seriously injured him.

Faintly, she heard Buffy Summers yell, "Now."

She still couldn't be sure there wouldn't be complications -- she had to recertify in basic medical knowledge every few years, but otherwise she didn't do a whole lot of boning up on 98 of the physical side of medicine -- but he was significantly better off than if Cameron Kim hadn't distracted that knight at the last second.

Buffy and Faith came back in, in something of a good mood. "They're morons," Faith said. "They watched us comin' and just stood there. Knock, knock, and now they're minus two priests, at least for an hour or so."

"That, that's good," Tara said. "Sweetie?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah, I can't feel them any more."

"Good," Buffy said. "We're not going to bother with my arrow slit idea. What was happening out there is, there are about ten knights running around behind the building, and three lying on the ground unconscious without weapons. I think our girl Cameron's been making a nuisance of herself." Good for Cameron. Possibly, there was hope for her yet.

Or possibly she realized her past chance of getting out of the area lay with the Slayer and her friends.

Either way, help was help. But she wasn't going to stop trying to puzzle out the woman's motives.

"Hell, B, if they're busy lookin' for her --"

"No," Buffy said firmly. "There are still too many out there, and it's too big a risk."

"I wasn't thinkin' we try to take 'em all on," Faith said. "Just a few --"

"Dumb idea," Anya said. "Unless you _want_ the police to show up here and figure that we're the bad guys. But maybe you do. I've heard you do things like that."

Faith looked a bit hurt, but said, "Did. But yeah, good point. Discretion, the better part, blah blah blah."

"Okay. So, we're set," Buffy said. "Spike, go make sure the general's gag is nice and tight. We don't want him screaming to his friends out there a second before we dump his ass outside the shield."

Spike left the room and came back fifteen seconds later. "Retightened it just to be safe."

"Okay," Buffy said. "It's your show, Dr. Vaughn."

Lynette took her cell phone out and punched in 911.

A woman's voice on the other end of the phone said, "What's the emergency?"

"We need an ambulance and the police," Lynette said. "Quickly."

"Where are you, ma'am?"

"I'm not completely sure. It's an abandoned gas station on state highway 103, somewhere around mile marker 19 -- out in the desert, the gas station's the only building for miles. Some friends and I were on a road trip when this gang forced us off the road . . ."


	14. The Most Beautiful Word

Author's Note: As you may have noticed, we are well into an AU by now. _Spiral_ is done with and any references to _Weight of the World _will be fleeting indeed.

Disclaimer: _Buffy, Daria_, original characters; Joss, Glenn, me.

X X X X X

Buffy listened to Dr. Vaughn describe what had happened.

"Yes. Not severely. Shoulder injury, doesn't appear to have struck the bone. I'm a doctor myself and I did the best I could. Swords, bows and arrows, all kinds of medieval weaponry. No. I can't be sure they didn't have any, but they haven't used them. Did you see any guns?" The question was just for show; they all knew damn well the Knights of Byzantium weren't carrying any guns. "No. Ten -- no, eleven. One didn't make it into the gas station before the gang surrounded us. She has to be so frightened out there." The Knights were probably more scared of Cameron Kim than she was of them. "No. I have no idea. They're just sitting out there, like they're waiting for something." Something like them surrendering or Willow's shield coming down. "No. Please. Hurry."

Well, it was obvious they were keeping her on the line. Standard procedure, from all Buffy'd heard, even though Lynette Vaughn certainly had to be one of the least hysterical callers they'd ever had. The psychiatrist had been talking with them for a good five minutes or so, and they were sending four police cars and an ambulance. Buffy had been hoping for the SWAT team, but that would do for the moment. Anyway, after the first police officer saw the siege warfare going on he'd certainly call for reinforcements, unless the Knights decided to surrender peacefully. And Buffy put _those_ odds at only slightly less than the odds of escaping by growing wings and flying away. Still, the Knights out there would shortly be in the position of the guy who brought the knife to the gunfight.

Still, that meant there was a risk. They'd have to drop the shield as soon as the police showed up, or they'd be answering more questions than the Knights.

While Dr. Vaughn kept talking with the 911 operator, Buffy gestured for Willow to come over. "Will. When you drop the shield, can you whip up another, smaller one in here, centered on us?"

"I think so. Why?"

"Because they're sending four police cars. And if the Knights decide to fight a holding action, have some of them stand off the police while a few of them come in here to finish off Dawn, she still might need more protection than Spike, Daria and I will be able to give her."

Willow said, "I'll do the best I can. But the three of you -- why Daria?"

"Because Faith's existence is still kind of a secret. So when the police break in here, Daria Morgendorffer had better be acting like a cynical chick, not like a wild and crazy gal itching for a fight."

"Gotcha," Will said. "You'd better be ready, just in case."

Buffy didn't want to have to have to do any fighting at all -- the whole we don't want to answer questions from the cops thing, this time with the variant of "How come you 100-pound gals are tossing around them big guys in armor?", but a choice between defending Dawn and having to answer embarrassing questions was no choice at all.

Xander was outside, trying to look like he knew how to use the mace he was holding. The Knights had moved well back from the edge of the shield, to hold off any repeat performances like those that sidelined their priests, but -- while it served as a nice distraction -- that wasn't Xander's main reason for being out there. He was keeping an eye and an ear out for the police.

Faith was ready to turn back into Daria at a moment's notice. Fortunately for them, Daria seemed to be kind of quick on the uptake, so if she came to while knights were coming at them and the police were bursting into the room with guns drawn, she wouldn't be likely to panic.

Buffy had long since been convinced that this Daria/Faith business was no angle Faith was running. If it was, then Faith really _was _"the world's best actress," and Buffy kind of doubted that.

That she believed them didn't mean she trusted Faith, at least not completely, but it didn't have anything to do with her split personality. All of the issues between them had been there for a long time and would still be there until they managed to have a serious discussion about it. Or until they slugged it out. Faith wasn't big on the touchy-feely and might actually prefer to settle things with violence. Faith had apologized, and seemed willing to do whatever she could to work past what she'd done. Of course, that was a _lot_ to work past.

Buffy didn't have any such issues with Daria, and the reverse also seemed to be true, except when someone else presented issues first. She seemed fairly hostile to Spike, but then, Spike had been hostile to her first. Still was. Daria and Willow at least seemed to be willing to be civil to one another. It was an effort on Will's part, but it was one she was making.

She gestured to Spike. "Hey. I'd rather not take any chances. Let's take the general and the weapons and dump them through the shield now. Will?" It was dark by now.

"Ready when you are, JB," Willow said.

Spike said, "Right. You want me to gather up the goodies or haul out the trash?"

"The general," Buffy said. "And try to resist the temptation to slap him around a few more times. We _don't_ want them to be able to point to us and say that we gave as good as we got."

"What about the rope m-" Right. No rope marks on armor. You're a bright girl, Slayer."

"I try," Buffy said, and went to collect all the weapons. The only ones she left behind were Olaf's Hammer and Faith's flail. She and Spike walked up near Xander, who said, "Good idea," and picked a couple of weapons off of the top of the pile.

"Ready!" Buffy yelled. Then, when the doorway opened, Spike pushed the general through it, and Buffy and Xander threw the weapons out. For the moment, Xander kept the mace he was holding. There seemed to be some kind of activity going on in the background, behind the Knights' makeshift barricade. Buffy couldn't see what it was.

One of the Knights said, "What is this?" as Willow closed her doorway.

"He's not talking, and we don't kill," Buffy said, and leaving Xander to keep watch for the police, turned and walked back into the gas station, with Spike following close behind.

X X X X X

After a while, Cameron Kim was beginning to think that she should have gone the discretion route after all. She'd managed to knock out two more knights, but another half dozen were busily chasing her down -- some almost literally on her tail.

And they'd gotten somewhat smarter. Instead of simply chasing wildly after her, they'd set two knights on horseback whose job it was to do nothing but shoot arrows at her whenever she got the chance, including whenever she tried to leave the area. And unlike the archers from this afternoon, these were calmer and a good deal more accurate, though she hadn't actually been hit yet.

So, instead of trying to run, she bounded between one knight and the next, knocking one down here, hitting the knees of another one there. She stayed as near the edge of their camp as she could, ready to bolt if she ever got a chance, trying to keep something between her and the two bowmen at all times.

What had kept her alive, besides her abilities, was that she wasn't these knights' main focus. Most of them were concentrating on the shield, so obviously whatever they wanted was inside it. Cameron guessed that they were also after the Key, though why beat her. If they were servants of Glorificus, like that pasty-faced troll she'd had to kill in Sunnydale, the hellgod was taking her own sweet time getting here. No. Better to assume they wanted the Key for their own reasons. If she got out of this, she'd ask Lilah Morgan.

Cameron's primary focus, now that she'd caused as much chaos as she possibly could, was to get out of arrowshot range; failing that, she'd take a crack at the archers, though she hadn't had any luck there so far.

Still, she had a certain amount of confidence in her own abilities. She could keep this up for as long as she had to.

Okay. Leopard now. She decided to try something a little different. Instead of attacking the knights, or running, or even charging the bowmen, she headed to where most of the horses were tied up -- and tied up fairly loosely. Good for the knights if they needed to get out quickly. Good for her, too.

The horses were understandably nervous when she ran over to them in her leopard form. Discipline was discipline, but there were damn few horses who would stay calm with a sizeable predator lurking nearby. Cameron chewed through as many tethers as she could before the knights ran up after her.

The freed horses bolted. Knights stopped and dove out of the way to avoid being trampled. Unfortunately, they blocked any easy access to clearing out of there, but they gave her a good chance to get to the bowmen. Using one of the spooked horses for cover, she ran up, leapt at the nearer archer, and knocked him off his horse. She swiftly became a bonobo and snapped the bow as the other one drew a bead on her. Throwing the broken bow in his face, she spoiled his aim; then she jumped up onto his horse, shoved him off, and broke _that_ bow as well.

With that taken care of, discretion started sounding like a good idea. She looked for the nearest edge of camp, found it, and ran straight for it. She made it, though one of the knights smashed her on the back with a mace on her way out. It slowed her down, but she didn't stop. Once she left the firelight, Cameron shifted back into black leopard form and ran far out into the darkness.

Once she was sure she'd left her pursuers behind, she stopped to catch her breath and look around. Hmmm. What were those lights in the distance --?

No.

She became human again to be sure. Yes, it was. Holy crap.

Someone had called the police.

Cameron almost laughed.

A plan came to her. No point in making things easy for these knights. She became a pronghorn, raced back to the firelight, and sopped quickly. Focused on her, they hadn't noticed the sirens yet.

So she decided to do her damnedest to make sure this tunnel vision of theirs continued as long as possible. She darted around for another minute, concentrating on staying alive, but moving as though she didn't know what to do.

The sirens grew louder. Some of the knights heard them, and looked around wildly. At that point, she bounded over the nearest knight, rammed him with her horns -- damaging only his ego, if that -- and ran away, but more slowly.

The knight angrily followed her, swinging his sword.

The sirens grew louder still. She had to time this --

Three seconds later, she "tripped" and fell to the ground. As the knight raised his sword, she changed back into plain Cameron Kim and yelled, "No! Don't!"

The knight smiled grimly and started to swing downwards --

Until he was stopped by what was, to Cameron at that particular moment, the most beautiful word in the English language:

"Freeze!"

X X X X X

The siege's denouement was something of an anticlimax, though it had its moments. Daria came to the sounds of Xander Harris running into the building yelling "They're here!" and Buffy gesturing for everyone to move together.

A bit bemused -- obviously, they'd called the police, though why Faith had chosen that particular moment to bring her back was something of a mystery -- Daria moved in with everyone else, huddled around the dingy and abandoned counter. Giles and Tara were sitting down, leaning against it, and Dawn was behind it, while everyone else stood up. Buffy said, "Fighters to the outside!" and she, Spike, Daria, and Xander stood on the outside of a semi-circle, while Willow, Anya, and Dr. Vaughn moved around Giles and Tara.

"Now, Will!" Buffy yelled, then, quickly, to Daria, "The police are here and we're dropping the shield so we won't get asked any awkward questions."

"Yes. Coming in here and finding our dead bodies should alleviate us of that responsibility." She presumed Buffy would have a contingency plan of some sort. But she couldn't resist the line.

"Way ahead of you," Buffy said. "Will?"

"Working on it," she said, and said, "Enemies, stop and fall. Circling arms, raise a wall."

And a smaller version of the outside shield, perhaps fifteen feet in diameter, appeared in a circle centered directly around Willow, a few seconds before five knights came in. "Damn!" One of them said. "The witch has raised a smaller shield."

"Hack away it, my brothers," another one said. "The witch surely is nearly drained after that long effort." The knights came over and started pounding away at the shield as hard as they could. Three used swords, one a mace, one an axe.

"It will be mere moments before the police are in here!" The dialogue was directly out of a particularly bad '80s swords-and sorcery epic. Daria forbore from mentioning this on the grounds now wasn't the time to make them any angrier.

"Then we must struggle all the harder!"

Willow was straining with the effort, but the shield held. A lone police officer entered the room, and Willow dropped the shield immediately. Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander and Anya immediately yelled, "Help!"

"Drop the weapons! Now!" The officer yelled.

"No!" One of them yelled. "Not when we're so close!" Then he raised his axe as though he were going to throw it directly at Dawn.

Next to her, Daria could feel Buffy and Spike tense for action, but before any of them could do anything, two gunshots rang out.

The knight dropped the axe and went down. Blood began to seep out of the two holes in his chest. "Hmm. Guess it wasn't bulletproof after all," Daria said, mostly to herself.

"Now!" the officer yelled. "Anyone _else_ have any dumb ideas?"

"Today is not our day, my brothers," one knight said. "Drop your weapons."

They did just that. The officer spoke into a radio while keeping her gun trained on the four surrendered knights. "I've got four of them in the building," she said. "Had to drop a fifth. I could use a little backup."

"We'll be in there as soon as we can," a voice said from the other end of the radio. "We've got our hands full out here."

She looked over and saw the bandage on Giles' shoulder. "Send in the paramedics," she said. "We've got two people injured.

"Just, just one," Tara said. "I was sick before I came in here."

"One person," the officer said.

And, soon enough, the paramedics came in and carried off a mildly protesting Giles; Dr. Vaughn went with him. Then two other officers came in, with plenty of handcuffs, and began leading the captured knights out of the room.

And, just like that, the siege was over.


	15. The Waiting

Author's Note: I'm making an educated guess as to where they were, based on the locations of Sunnydale and Los Angeles and the fact that the Knights caught up to them in the middle of the desert.

Disclaimer: Joss owns _Buffy_; Glenn owns _Daria_; I own Dr. Vaughn and Cameron Kim. Any resemblance between the actual Kern County Sheriff's Department and the one shown here is strictly coincidental. Also, the 'Tarnhelm Effect' was invented by Randall Garrett, author of the Lord Darcy fantasy detective novels.

X X X X X

Of course, just because the siege was over didn't mean that all of their difficulties were -- and Daria wasn't even considering the hellgod.

After the police led the knights away in handcuffs, and the officer who'd shot the knight left the building as well, a female police officer came over and said, "I'm Deputy Vickers, Kern County Sheriff's Office. Are the rest of you okay?"

"Hungry and tired," Buffy said. "And confused. If you find out what the hell they were doing, please let us know." Of course, they knew exactly what the Knights of Byzantium wanted; they wanted to kill Dawn. But they obviously couldn't let the police know that.

"And worried," Daria said. "We had a friend who was trapped outside --"

"She's fine," Deputy Vickers said, looking at Daria. "We got here right as one of the gang members was about to attack her with a sword. She seems hungry, tired, and a bit bruised, but she's also okay."

"Good," Buffy said. "So. What happens next?"

"What happens next is, we take you folks back to the station with us to answer some questions. I know it's been a long day, but --"

"As long as someone tells us how the man they took away is doing," Buffy said. "We'd be happy to answer some. Still, you're right. It's been a long day."

"And one of our rides is busted," Spike said. "Clipped one of their damn horses."

"And Dr. Vaughn took the keys to her car with her," Xander said.

"Actually, she didn't," Tara said. "She, she handed them to me while the paramedics were loading Giles onto the stretcher." She handed them up to Xander.

"So four of us can fit in there," Buffy said. "The rest of us are going to need rides."

Deputy Vickers didn't answer Buffy. She was too busy looking at Daria. "Now I know who you are," she said. "You're Daria Morgendorffer." She even pronounced the name correctly.

"That's absolutely right," Daria said. "And for correctly guessing the answer, you win a year's supply of Rice-A-Roni. It's the San Francisco treat."

"What?"

"Never mind. That's just my sense of humor."

"Oh. Okay."

"Is this going to be a problem, sergeant?" Buffy asked.

"No," the officer said. "It's a little strange, though, wouldn't you think?"

"We were surrounded by three dozen people riding horses, wearing armor, and wielding weaponry straight from the blacksmith. I believe 'strange' is a decided understatement."

"I think my superiors are going to want to talk to you," she said.

"Fine. They can talk away. I'll answer any questions they have. But please remember something, deputy. I'm not on parole, not on probation, and legally sane. So I would appreciate being treated that way."

Deputy Vickers said, "I think you're not understanding me, Miss Morgendorffer. We don't think you've done anything wrong here. We just want your autograph."

Daria couldn't say anything. She just gaped.

X X X X X

Buffy saw Cameron Kim standing out near one of the police cars. Maybe ten knights were standing around in handcuffs; another fifteen or so were in the backs of police cars, or in the back of a paddy wagon. With the few dead, that meant maybe a dozen had managed to escape.

They'd decided that Xander would drive Dawn, Tara, and Spike to the station. Xander had to drive, of course; Tara was still suffering from magic-related exhaustion, and the less time she spent with the police, the better; Dawn needed to be kept in circumstances that allowed for a quick getaway, and Spike, who wanted as little to do with the police as possible, was there to protect her. Buffy wanted to go with her, just like Willow wanted to go with Tara and Anya with Xander, but with the police watching over them, and a lot of stuff to transfer to the car -- the Dagonsphere, their clothes, Olaf's Hammer and Faith's flail (currently under a spell Willow had called the Tarnhelm effect," which was kind of like invisibility, but not really. Buffy's eyes had started to glaze over when Willow had begun to explain it; she'd stopped her friend and said, "Will, will the police notice them?"

"Oh, no," Willow'd said.

"Good enough."

In the meantime, Deputy Vickers was practically drooling at the chance to get Daria in her car so she could ask her questions. Faith had mentioned that something like this might happen, but they hadn't expected the police themselves to be starstruck -- and by a woman who, until a week ago, was in jail for double murder.

Buffy'd mentioned as much to Deputy Vickers, who'd said, "We're not _all_ stupid, heartless bastards who think that every criminal who claims to have a mental problem is lying," a bit sarcastically. "Some of us are actually capable of looking at the evidence and making our own independent judgments."

Buffy hadn't quite meant it that way, but she'd apologized to the deputy, saying, "I didn't quite mean it like that. But most of us are from Sunnydale, and --"

Deputy Vickers had laughed. "No. I get where you're coming from now. And I shouldn't have snapped like that. Though I see at least you get it partly from experience and not just from television."

For her part, Daria seemed bewildered by the whole thing. Faith had been right; she really hadn't accepted that she was famous. Spending a few days holed up in Angel's hotel followed by a trip to Sunnydale, which at times seemed to be living well out of step with the rest of the world, wouldn't have done much to remind her.

Tara asked, "What are you going to do with the horses?"

"Animal Control's coming in," Deputy Vickers said. "They'll be rounded up and taken to a shelter. Don't worry. We're not going to blame them for the actions of their owners."

"Good," Tara said.

"We're going to need a second or so to transfer our stuff to the car," Buffy said. "The Winnebago's not going anywhere for a while."

"Yes. The horse," the deputy said. "Don't worry. We're not going to rush you. We'll send a tow truck for it in the morning."

They took maybe twenty minutes shoving in as much as they could -- taking all of their personal stuff. Tara promised to take good care of the Dagonsphere. She staggered a bit getting into Dr. Vaughn's car.

"Your friend okay?" Sergeant Vickers said.

"Yeah," Buffy said. "She's been sick a lot recently, that's all."

When Xander got inside, Deputy Vickers said, "Okay, sir. Pull up around front and wait for our signal, then follow us back to the station." Xander nodded to show he understood, and then Buffy, Daria, Willow, and Anya walked back to the front of the gas station.

It took them about a half hour to have the knights cleared out; Animal Control and what looked like some forensic types were starting to show up when they all left. In the meantime, Buffy took a minute to chat with Cameron Kim.

"Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome," she said. "I have to be fair, though: A lot of it was self-defense."

"Enough of it wasn't," Buffy said. She still didn't completely trust Cameron Kim. Knowing her employers, she would have been an idiot to do so. But still, she'd gone above and beyond in helping them, and Buffy felt she needed to acknowledge that. "And I'm glad you're okay, too."

"Same for you," she said.

After an awkward silence, Buffy said, "Okay. Now I have a question. You don't have to answer it if you don't want to, or if you can't for some reason."

"Go ahead," Cameron said.

"_Why the hell aren't you naked_?"

Cameron looked at her oddly for a second, then burst out laughing. "It's such an obvious question," she said once she'd calmed down, "You'd think someone would have asked it before now. This is a little something set up for me by -- my superiors, so I won't have a clothes budget the size of a small country, or have to strip every time I change forms. The best way to explain it -- do you read comics?"

"No," Buffy said. "Daria reads, a little --" Well, _Faith_ did, close enough -- "and so does Xander. Apart from a few episodes of _Batman_, I'm kind of out of the comics loop. Why?"

"It was the best way to explain it. The character the Flash has a ring he wears that contains a supercompressed version of his costume, and he can bring it out and get into it at superspeed. Me, I don't have superspeed, but I do have this ring." She showed Buffy a ring on her right hand. "Every time I shift into a different form, this thing automatically determines whether I've taken a different human form -- and then, it alters my clothes to fit my new body -- or animal form, and then my clothes disappear into the ring. When I become human again, they reappear."

"Your superiors," Buffy said, probing to see whether Cameron would let anything slip, "Must have access to some pretty powerful magic."

Cameron wasn't biting. "They do," she said. "And nice try."

Buffy shrugged. "Worth a shot." Then she said. "Hold on a second," and went over to Dr. Vaughn's car.

Rolling down the window as soon as she approached, Xander said, "What's up?"

"I think Cameron Kim's purse is still in there."

From the passenger seat, Tara said, "Sure. It, it's right here," and passed it over to Xander, who handed it to Buffy.

"If we don't get something of a move on we might find out Glorificus has caught up with us," Spike said. "Or didn't you notice those news blokes in the background?"

Buffy swore. Sure enough, a few hundred feet away were some camera crews -- the police were keeping them well away from the crime scene, but that was easily close enough to let them focus in on Buffy or any of her friends. "Dawn, Tara, get down," she said. "It's going to be hard for them to get pictures through the car window but let's not take any chances." Even as she gave the orders, she realized they probably wouldn't do much good. After all, Glory would recognize her just as easily as Tara.

Still, every little bit helped. She went over and told Daria and Willow to keep their heads facing away from the cameras as well. Then she handed Cameron Kim her purse --as she expected, the woman excused herself to make a phone call.

Now all they had to do was keep their backs to the cameras, and wait to get away from there.

X X X X X

Daria rode in the back of Deputy Vickers' police car, as though she were a prisoner. Willow, of all people, rode with her. (She suspected that that was because Buffy wanted to ride herd on Anya, who apparently had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.)

"You comfortable back there?" the deputy asked.

"A police car built for comfort. I bet the crooks are just lining up to be arrested," Daria said.

The deputy laughed. "You're right. It's not exactly riding in a limo. But we're not trying to torture people, either."

"Let me guess. You wait for that until you have them in the station."

Deputy Vickers hesitated a second, then apparently decided Daria was making a joke. "Yes. But we don't bring out the rubber hoses unless they piss us off."

"Anyway, deputy," Daria said. "You wanted to talk to me. This is your chance." Truth be told, there was little she wanted to do less than have a long chat with anyone who regarded her as a celebrity. But the Kern County police officers had saved them from the Knights of Byzantium. She supposed a little bit of being chatted up was the least she could do in return.

"Miss Rosenberg?" Deputy Vickers said. "You haven't said anything. You don't mind, do you?"

"No," Willow said. "I'm just worried about Mr. Giles, that's all."

"Mr. Giles is in good hands," she said reassuringly.

"Good," Willow said. She seemed kind of drained herself; she hadn't talked much since dropping the second shield. Of course. If that teleportation spell had drained Tara, then maintaining two shield spells plus that selective invisibility for the two weapons certainly had to be exhausting her, as well.

"So then," the deputy said. "Miss Morgendorffer. I'm not going to ask you about what happened four years ago --"

"Please. Don't," Daria said firmly. If the conversation headed in that direction, Daria would be as communicative as a dummy missing its ventriloquist. And this wasn't even taking into account that she still didn't remember the events of that night, although Dr. Vaughn had assured her that, while under hypnosis, she had.

She didn't want to. She wouldn't do it for any reason. And she sure as _hell_ wouldn't do it to provide people with amusement.

"I won't," the deputy said. "I do have what might be some good news on that front, though. Willard Jay Harbaugh's final appeal was exhausted today."

"Good," Daria said. Daria opposed the death penalty. In Harbaugh's case, she made an exception. Was this inconsistent? Very well then. To paraphrase Walt Whitman, she was large. She contained multitudes. In her case, literally.

"I thought that might cheer you up," Deputy Vickers said. It didn't, exactly. But she wasn't going to critique the deputy's word choices. "Anyway. It's just amazing, what you went through. I'm surprised you came through as well as you have . . ."

X X X X X

They were questioned for several hours, individually and together. Giles got there sometime around 2 in the morning; Dr. Vaughn was with him. Somehow, between the time they'd left in the ambulance and the time they drove up to the police station, Dr. Vaughn had found an SUV. There had to be an all-night car rental place somewhere in the area, Buffy supposed, because the psychiatrist sure as hell hadn't stolen it.

The Kern County Sheriff's Office questioned Dr. Vaughn and Giles as well.

Daria, they treated like a visiting celebrity, one who _wasn't_ being charged with anything. Buffy could see the look of growing frustration on her face, but she somehow managed to keep her temper. Buffy was very grateful for that.

As Spike had predicted, that the Winnebago was stolen property came up in the course of the night; but as Willow had predicted, they accepted the 'If I ever catch the guy' excuse. Or, just possibly, with 25 or so knights crowding their jails -- along with three dead bodies in the morgue and another five in the hospital under guard -- they had more important things to worry about. The consensus seemed to be that they were the victims of a weird cult.

"I won't argue with you there," Buffy said.

They kept them most of the night. Finally, after getting Dr. Vaughn's cell phone number so they could reach them if they needed more information, they let them go just before sunrise. "So," Dawn said. "What do we do now?"

"I know we all want to collapse," Buffy said. "But I think we need to get out of the area, in case Glory's watching the morning news."

"Also," Daria said, "We need to outrun any reporters who may be lingering around."

"Whatever we decide, could we hurry it up?" Spike said. "The sunlight and me are about to have a serious disagreement, and it ain't one I'm going to win."

"You're going to need to huddle under a blanket until we get where we're going," Buffy said. When Spike started to complain, she added, "It's either that or ride in the trunk."

"Where are we going, Buffy?" Giles asked. Buffy told them. To the chorus of protests -- only Daria and Cameron Kim didn't join in -- Daria said, "It's one of the few places I feel completely safe. And the Kern County Sheriff's Office doesn't know about it, and neither does Glory."

Eventually, they gave in. They almost always did.

Physically and mentally exhausted, they finally got where there were going -- the Hyperion -- sometime just past 10 AM. Spike had to run into the building with his coat covering him.

Dr. Vaughn's calls hadn't gotten any answer, but Buffy felt sure Angel wouldn't object, even if he _wasn't _there.

He wasn't. Neither were Cordelia or Wesley. Three men in business suits were, looking over the place as though they owned it. Which, of course, they didn't.

Apparently, they hadn't noticed Spike's sprint into the building.

Next to her, she could feel Cameron Kim stiffen. "What are you doing here?" the young woman practically spat.

One of the three men turned to face them. He was startled for a second, but quickly recovered and said, "I didn't expect to find you here, Kim."

"I didn't expect to find you here either, Gavin," was Cameron's icy response.


	16. Keep Your Enemies Closer

Author's Note: Hanging out at the Hyperion. And, because someone asked why Angel isn't there, the answer is simple: He, Gunn, Lorne, Wes and Cordy are in Pylea. By my calculations, they left the previous night, probably during the siege.

So they won't be showing up to help Daria -- at least, not yet.

Disclaimer: Except for Cameron, Lynette, and the plot, 'tain't mine.

X X X X X

There were beings Cameron Kim wanted to see less than Gavin Park. Osama bin Laden. Glorificus. Beyond those two, though --

She and Gavin had exactly one thing in common: they were both Korean-American. Except for that, nothing. Gavin Park was an unprincipled, classless thug with a law degree and an expensive suit. Not that Lilah Morgan was any more ethical, or had any more fashion sense. But at least she had some kind of class -- and you knew where you stood with her. Gavin, on the other hand, was so oily you could have made billions on selling the drilling rights to his skull.

Next to her, Buffy Summers said, "Who are you and what the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," Gavin said. "You don't own this building any more than I do."

"I'm willing to call the police if you are," Buffy said.

Laughing scornfully, Gavin said, "Do you know who you're dealing with? We'd be out of there so quickly the police wouldn't even have time to shut the door."

"So would they," Cameron said.

"You're not in a position to make that kind of guarantee," Gavin said softly.

"Considering who sent me on my current mission," Cameron said, "I think I am."

The tension in the room ratcheted up a couple more notches, if that was possible. A bit late in the game, Cameron realized that a fight was the last thing she wanted, no matter how much fun it would be to watch Buffy Summers punch the smirk off of Gavin's smug face. If a battle broke out, Cameron would be damned no matter whose side she took.

Fortunately, Gavin and his bodyguards weren't up for fighting right then. He smiled and said, "Never mind. We were just getting ready to leave anyway. He and the other two walked towards the Hyperion's entrance, and he said, "If you'll excuse me?"

Buffy said, "We wouldn't want to get in the way of your leaving," and everyone took a couple of steps backwards, leaving Gavin and his goons a clear path to the door.

They left without another word, though the look Gavin shot her as he walked past her could have melted steel. Cameron wasn't worried; Gavin Park already hated her guts, and she was, at the moment, too valuable an agent for the Wolfram & Hart higher-ups to let the man vent at her in more than petty ways.

When he was finally gone, Buffy said, "Who was that?"

The one good thing is that Gavin, whether by design or, more likely, accident, hadn't let slip who their employer was. "His name's Gavin Park. He also works for my employers. As you can tell, we don't really like each other all that much."

"You're kidding," Daria said in an even tone. "I would have guessed you were devoted to each other." She smiled faintly.

"If you'll let me," Cameron said, "I'll answer the rest of your questions later. But right now I need to report in, and it might be a good idea if I get there before he does." She could, and would, call along the way; but some things were better talked about in person. Buffy and her friends seemed reasonably trusting, but she wouldn't put it past them to listen in if they thought she might be working against them.

And while she wasn't at the moment, and hoped she wouldn't have to, that could change at any moment.

"He's got a car and a head start," Xander pointed out.

Cameron grinned. "Yeah. But _I_ know the shortcuts."

X X X X X

After Cameron Kim left, Spike said, "Fifty bucks says we don't see her again."

"You're on," Buffy said. "I think she's sticking with us for the duration." And honestly, she preferred it that way. If friends needed to be kept close, and enemies closer, those whose loyalties you weren't sure of were best kept closest of all.

Buffy was feeling oddly optimistic, after the night's events. The Knights of Byzantium were in custody, the police had rescued them, and they weren't anywhere Glory would easily be able to find. Sure, Glory was still an uberpowerful hellgod who wanted to kill Tara, and would kill Dawn if she ever bought a clue; yes, Cameron Kim was watching them carefully; and yes, there were other Knights of Byzantium out there who still wanted to kill Dawn --

She'd better stop before she optimisticked herself into leaping off the roof.

"First thing we need to do, is --" Buffy began.

"Get some sleep," Willow said exhaustedly, and was echoed by everyone.

"No arguments here," Buffy said. "But we need to at least leave a note for Angel in case he comes back while we're sacked out."

"Actually," Giles said, "Much as I hate to suggest it, someone should probably stay away a few hours longer, to stand guard."

Buffy looked over at Daria, who said, "Flip you for it."

"I don't think I have any change," Buffy said.

"I didn't say anything about using a coin," Daria said, face completely neutral.

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No. I'll take first watch. Let's all try to get a few hours --"

"When I wake up," Dr. Vaughn said, "I'll start making arrangements to get us a flight out of here. Any preferences?"

"Away from here," Buffy said.

"And somewhere at night," Spike said. "In case you'd forgotten."

"I'll see what I can do," the psychiatrist said.

"When I'm done," Buffy said, "I'll wake you up, okay, Daria?"

"Better stand back when you do," she warned. "I tend to get grumpy if I don't get at least three hours of sleep every two days."

Buffy recognized bitching for bitching's sake when she heard it. She was an expert at it herself.

So, while everyone else went upstairs to locate empty rooms and go to bed, Buffy got to stay up and wander around the hotel lobby, trying to find a pen, paper, and --

Hell. She was hungry.

Maybe somewhere nearby delivered . . .

X X X X X

"Heya, DM. Long time no see."

"It does seem like it's been an eternity, yes," Daria said. They were back in the apartment. "Too bad we're only going to get a few hours. Buffy insists on waking us up so that we can stand guard."

"Yeah, one of the hazards of bein' a Slayer," Faith said. "Extra endurance and all that means that when the shit jobs come around, we're the ones who gotta do 'em."

"Oh joy, oh rapture."

"Yeah, I can just tell how excited you are. So. You at least wanna hash out the last few days?"

"It's not like we have anything else to do at the moment. The last time you left me was right before the police entered the room. The deputy who did had to shoot one of the Knights of Byzantium . . ."

They told each other what had happened, all the way back to when the Knight had first attacked the trailer -- and that, though it seemed like an eternity ago, was actually less than eighteen hours from when Daria had come upstairs to fall asleep.

"So, what's your take on Cameron Kim?" Faith asked when they were done. "I ain't talkin' about what we already know. I want a character judgment."

"I still don't think we can trust her," Daria said. "I'm not completely sure why, except for who her employers are."

"She's done a lot to help us," Faith said.

"Yes. I know. The problem is, I'm not sure whether this still isn't part of some plan. Not one involving Glorificus; one involving Wolfram & Hart. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for everything she's done. I think she has a definite code of ethics, and even a sense of morals. She went well above and beyond the call of duty when it came to defending us at the gas station. But I'm not entirely sure that her code of ethics -- which seems to be geared towards doing what her employer wants -- isn't going to override of her sense of morals when the time comes -- whatever time that happens to be."

Faith nodded. "Yeah, that's more or less my thinkin' on it too. So, what're you going to say if she comes back from her stopoff at Wolfram & Hart wantin' to come with?"

"I think she's going to follow us whether we want her to or not, unless we hit her over the head and lock her in a room with steel walls," Daria said. "Which doesn't fit _my_ sense of ethics. At least if she comes with us we'll be able to watch her."

"I could," Faith said. "But unless B thinks the same thing, I don't think I'm gonna."

As the discussion about Cameron Kim seemed to have died down, Daria said, "So. What else can we do?"

"I'm not in the mood for trainin'," Faith said. "Not after all the fightin' I did over the last couple of days."

"Neither am I," Daria said. "Which leaves conversation, or mediation. And meditation while you're already dreaming seems kind of pointless. It's not like we can get any more relaxed." After a second, "And I'm betting you didn't have any time to read _Watchmen_ any further, either."

"I was kinda busy, DM," Faith said. "Hey. You ever read any other comics?"

"A few, here and there . . ."

X X X X X

Okay, _now _the divine Glorificus was starting to get pissed off. In front of a large group of her useless minions, who were shaking in fear at the far end of the room, she screamed, ranted, raved, and threw furniture against the wall. Finally calm enough to actually form words, she yelled, "Where the hell are they?"

No one answered. Smart of them. But they, and she, had spent the whole night looking for the Slayer or any single one of her little friends. They'd checked their apartments and houses, that magic store, even the damn vampire's crypt. And they. Weren't. _Anywhere_! They'd obviously found themselves somewhere new to hide, and they weren't coming out for any reason.

And time was starting to get short. Already, she was having these weird thoughts and feelings -- like that it was wrong to kill the girl.

Ridiculous, of course. Whatever she wanted to do was, by definition, right, because she wanted to do it. She'd need to talk to Doc about why she was starting to have these feelings. At least _he_ was smart. He didn't quite suck up as much as most of her other followers, but he made up for it by being more useful than any ten of them put together.

Anyway, Doc was the one with all the magic skill, so he'd be the one to ask. While she was there, she'd ask him if he could do anything to find the Slayer and her Key.

She looked up at the room. The idiot minions were still there. She waved a hand in a "go away" gesture. "Get out of here," she said. "Last one out, I use their head for a footstool."

They scrambled to get out of the room, crashing into each other, trampling each other. Under other circumstances she might have found their yelps of pain amusing. But right now --

Right now, she felt -- what was the word? That word humans used when they did something wrong, like fail to acknowledge how fabulous she was? -- Oh. Right. She felt _sorry_ for them.

She hated that.

They were all gone now, except for one whose name, like most, she hadn't bothered to learn. "What?" Glory snarled.

"I was the last one out of the room, o beauteous one," she said. "Do you want to remove my head yourself, or should I have some of the other minions --"

"Get out!" she yelled.

The minion got.

Then she stormed over to where Doc had been making his preparations for the ritual -- he'd been there all night, going back to his own apartment a couple of times to get something he needed. It was one of the reasons she liked him. At least, once he was done worshipping her, he had somewhere else to go. The sorcerer looked up when she walked in. "Yes, divine one?" he asked.

She explained the weird feelings she'd been having, and he frowned. "That's certainly an indication that the time is drawing near for you to return to your home dimension," he said. "The spell keeping you and your 'brother' apart is beginning to break down."

"Hold it," Glory said. "Does that mean that I'm going to start --" she could barely even think about it -- _acting_ like a human?"

"You already are," Doc said. "That's the source of these weird feelings you've been having. They're called a conscience. Ben has one. As the spell continues to break down, you should see more and more elements of it, and his personality, in you."

"Well, I don't want it. Make it go away. I will _not _be the sum of my parts."

But Doc said, "Apologies, divine one. I cannot do that. Even were not most of my power already in use to set up your ritual, I could not. It is beyond my scope, or the scope of any individual magician."

Damn Ben, and damn humans for having these consciences! She didn't _want _to see what she and her 'brother' would be if you added them together.

"There is more bad news, I'm afraid," Doc said. "If this spell is beginning to lose its effectiveness, the spell keeping the knowledge that you and Ben share a body is also starting to fail. This could leave you vulnerable, if anyone found out. You are nearly indestructible. Ben is not. He is merely human."

"Well, _that_ sucks," Glory said. "The Slayers' little brat of a sister saw Ben and me make the switch. If she tells them --"

"We'll find them before that happens," Doc said. "I'm sure of it."

"How can you be so sure?" Glory asked. "The minions might be morons, but there are a lot of them, and they all looked for any sign of the Slayer or her friends. I went out there and I didn't see them either. Why do you think you'll be able to find them where _I've_ failed?"

"You didn't fail, divine one," Doc said. "You simply weren't looking in the right place."

"And what _is_ the right place?" she asked irritably.

"CNN," Doc said.


	17. Load, Aim, Fire

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns _Buffy, Angel,_ and all associated characters. Glenn Eichler owns _Daria_ and all associated characters. I own everything else.

X X X X X

To Buffy's mild surprise, when she went to wake Daria up, she got Faith. "We've worked out a system," she said. "It mighta shocked you, but me and her, we knew it was comin'."

"Sorry to have to wake you up so soon, but --"

"Yeah, I get it. You gotta get your sleep too, and you and me're the only ones who can get by short-timin' it." She stretched, bounced out of the bed and said, "Man, I'm starvin'. Hope Angel's got somethin' at the back of fridge besides blood."

"Nope. Just blood. Also the worst coffee known to mankind."

"That bad?"

"Let me out it this way: Give Glory a cup and it'll solve all our problems. The good news is, I found a bagel place that delivered and ordered about four dozen plus some cream cheese. I know it's not what you usually eat, but --"

"B, for the last two years I've been eatin' whatever slop the prison dishes out. Bagels right now sound fuckin' gourmet." She picked up an oversize comic book. "Been meanin' to catch up on this. DM and me got a kind of book club goin' in our dreams." Buffy looked at the cover: _Watchmen_. Hell, even _she'd_ heard of that one. "Anyway, right now I'll eat damn near anything edible you put in front of me."

"Even yogurt?"

"I said _edible_, B."

Buffy grinned. "Just try to leave enough for the rest of them, okay?"

"I make no guarantees."

They both laughed this time. When they stopped, there was a minute or two of awkward silence, and then Buffy said, "Faith, look. I wanted to say I'm glad you came along for the ride."

"I know. You need all the help you can get against that hellbitch."

"Not that," Buffy said. "Well, not _just_ that. I'm also glad you came along . . . because it gives me the chance to apologize to you."

Faith laughed sharply. "Apologize? Hell, B, you don't have to apologize It ain't like I didn't give you cause to be pissed at me. Far as I'm concerned the only thing you ever really did to me was not clue me in that your boy Angel was alive and kickin' way back when. I kinda think all the stunts I pulled between then and the time I tried to commit suicide by vampire have long since done away with any sorry's you might think you have to say."

"I still think I need to say it," Buffy said. "Listen. I'm still mad at you and probably a lot of me always will."

"You got cause," Faith said, shrugging. "Least you ain't takin' it out on DM."

Buffy nodded, then said, "Of course I'm not. She doesn't deserve it; she's not you." Buffy was completely convinced of that. "But I'm not taking it out on you, either. You may think that all the 'stunts' you pulled -- like shooting Angel and holding Willow hostage are 'stunts,' but that's not really important right now -- overshadow what I did. And you'd be right. That still doesn't stop me from thinking that maybe if I'd been nicer to you in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"Yeah, it would," Faith said. "Might not've gone down the way it did, but it would've happened sooner or later. I was a tickin' bomb back then, B. Now that I know what set me tickin', I'm sure I as gonna explode somehow or other no matter what you or anyone else did. Only ones who coulda done something about it was the Watcher's Council. And maybe Willard Jay Harbaugh for killin' DM's parents and sis in the first place. Maybe if they'd helped me back then, tried to make me sane rather than load me, aim me, and fire me in the general direction of the vampires, maybe I might not've gone bad. But once they decided to make me a Slayer rather than a human being again -- once they invented Faith Lehane, it was gonna happen. I had to hit bottom to start workin' my way back up. 'sides, without blowin' up like that, Doc Vaughn never would've found DM and gotten her back the life she deserved. Don't get me wrong, B. Harbaugh and the Council set me on the path, but I ain't makin' excuses for myself. It's on me. And if you can't completely forgive me, I get that. I'm just glad you're willin' to talk to me."

Buffy didn't think she'd ever seen this side of Faith before, at least not intentionally. Her experiences in prison had changed her. Maybe she was right, that she needed to go all the way down before coming back up again. Still -- "I'm still sorry, though," she said. "For whatever small part I played."

"I can see I ain't gettin' any peace until I accept the damn thing, so fine. Apology accepted. And even though it ain't nearly enough, accept mine too, okay?"

"Okay. And I _am _glad you're here. Now go get some bagels."

"And you get some sleep," Faith said as she shut the door.

Yawning as she started to lie down on the bed, Buffy said, "Not really an issue."

X X X X X

"CNN?" Glorificus demanded. "What were you doing watching TV?"

Doc said, "Much of the preparation for the ritual, divine one, involves simply standing around and waiting for mystical forces to converge. They require my constant presence, but not my undivided concentration. At times, instead of staring at the walls, I turned on the television. And imagine my surprise when I saw the Slayer there."

"She has her own TV show?" Glory couldn't believe it.

Doc said, "No, divine one. She and several of her friends -- I saw the vampire, for one, and a couple of others I didn't recognize -- were, and I quote, 'rescued from a cult that had trapped them in an abandoned gas station on State Highway 103 in Kern County, California.' I even got to see several of the cult members. Familiar-looking fellows, all dressed up in a peculiar kind of armor."

"The Knights of Byzantium," Glory said.

"The very same," Doc said.

"And they'd only be after her if she had the Key with her."

"Yes."

"So where are they now?"

"The reports on the Slayer and her friends got a bit fuzzy from there," Doc said. "But the Knights of Byzantium are all being held in the Kern County jail, pending their trials."

"So the little bitch did run," Glory said. "I never would've thought she'd chicken out like that."

"If she was willing to run that far," Doc said. "She probably ran even further. But at least we know where the Knights are."

"Good. Then we know where I'm going to torture them. Get the minions together and -- oh, damn, not now, not now --"

X X X X X

Cameron Kim beat Gavin Park to the office not by turning into a pronghorn -- in the middle of LA, that would have been kind of noticeable. Instead, she shifted into the form of a celebrity and hailed a taxi -- the driver was more than willing to break all kinds of traffic laws to get 'Miss Barrymore' where she wanted to go.

Not that the real 'Miss Barrymore' would complain if she ever found out. All of Wolfram & Hart's celebrity had "impersonation clauses" in their contracts -- usually, this meant Wolfram & Hart would have someone impersonate them when they needed to make a public appearance but had something, or more likely some_one_, they'd rather be doing. But buried deep in the legalese were clauses allowing Wolfram & Hart to impersonate them for "such reasons as they may deem sufficient and necessary." Occasionally, this was done for spying purposes, but most often was done to keep unruly clients in line. (Actor balks at a meet & greet? Caught shoplifting, on camera. Or a drunken rampage. Or cheating on their wife with a transvestite hooker.)

Cameron's abilities were too extensive to be wasted on this aspect of Wolfram & Hart business, but she'd had to pinch-hit on occasion. It gave her something to do when she wasn't on one of her regular assignments -- and learning how to fool people, even those who knew a celebrity best, was something she wanted to practice regularly to make sure she'd know how to do it when a _really_ important test came along.

Anyway, she paid the taxi driver, leaving an average tip that left the driver cursing the cheapness of celebrities, and went into Wolfram & Hart well ahead of Gavin Park.

Not that she knew for a fact that Gavin was beelining back here in an effort to do her dirt, but with Gavin, that was always a safe assumption. Lilah would protect her, but a word or two to the right department head could delay Cameron long enough for the Slayer and her friends to decide she'd abandoned them, and move on. Eventually Cameron might track them down again, but she had no idea how long it would take.

She went straight back to Lilah's office. The attorney knew she was coming, and the receptionists apparently knew that as well; Cameron didn't need to stop and answer any questions.

"Come in," Lilah said when Cameron knocked on the attorney's just-open door. "What you told me on the phone was astonishing, to say the least." On her way to hailing the cab Cameron had given Lilah a two-minute summary.

"That's why I'm here," Cameron said. "To give you a more detailed report."

"I'm listening." So Cameron told her the whole story, starting with the last time she'd called in, back in Sunnydale, and ending after the encounter with Gavin. It took probably a half an hour or so, during which Lilah listened intently (while still working, of course). When she was done, Lilah said, "I did some research. Those knights you were fighting are part of a worldwide organization called the Knights of Byzantium. Their reason for existence is to stop Glorificus from returning to her home dimension."

Cameron frowned. "Then why the hell would they be attacking the Slayer and her friends?"

Lilah said, smiling, "Don't you love it when the good guys beat up on each other? Anyway, like most of the 'good guys,' they're lazy. Smart, but lazy. They figure, why should they bother trying to kill Glorificus --"

"That would be suicide."

"Near enough. Still, they figure destroying the Key serves their ends just as well, and is less likely to get them killed." She laughed. "Shows what they know, right? How many did you say were dead?"

"I killed two, the Slayer and her friends might have thrown two or three more off the roof of their RV, and the police shot one. So that's at least six. Plus two dozen more under arrest."

"Right," Lilah said. "Under arrest. Now _that_ was clever of the Slayer. We'll have to see what we can do to drag out the process a bit until the Slayer's well out of the area."

"Just for the record," Cameron said, "It was Daria Morgendorffer who came up with the idea of bringing in the police."

"It was a stroke of genius. And, speaking of your main assignment --"

Cameron shook her head. "There's still no sign that she's not just who she says she is. The only time during all of this I saw her doing any fighting was while the Knights were assaulting the RV -- she was up on the roof with Buffy. Unfortunately, I wasn't really close enough to see if she was more of an expert than she should be. I was kind of busy at the time."

"One of the reasons I was impressed," Lilah said. "You know, for someone who keeps saying how much they hate fighting and killing, you're really very good at is when you try."

The last thing Cameron wanted was to be transferred to black ops. "Those aren't mutually exclusive," she said.

"Relax, Kim," Lilah said. "The company has no plans to move you onto the hit squad. Also, for what it's worth, I'll do my best to stop Gavin from getting in your way." Then she frowned. "Did you get any idea what he was doing there?"

That surprised Cameron. Angel was one of Wolfram & Hart's main targets, and Lilah was at the forefront of the attempts to subvert him or take him down. "I'm not really sure. It looked like he was inspecting the furniture when I got there."

Lilah laughed again at that. "Gavin's on this big kick to take Angel down using building codes. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't try to have the vampire hauled up on charges that his sofa cushions weren't comfortable enough." Cameron didn't think that was it, but she was willing to bet Lilah didn't either. "And no sign of Angel? No, don't answer that. Dumb question. If Angel was there, Gavin wouldn't be."

"If I find out, I'll tell you," Cameron said.

"Don't put too much effort into it," Lilah said. "You've already got two assignments. Don't spread yourself too thin."

"Yes, Ms. Morgan," Cameron said. "Anything else about my current mission?"

"Keep on doing what you've been doing," the attorney said. "Watch Daria Morgendorffer, and keep an ear out to see if you can find out who the Key is. On either one, call before you take action."

"I will," Cameron said. "And --"

"Yes?"

"I've been awake for nearly two straight days," Cameron said. "Is there anything Wolfram & Hart can do about that?"

"I'm assuming you don't want it removed."

"No. I've seen what that can do." Various Wolfram & Hart employees had parts of their personality enhanced or removed, as necessary. Cameron stayed well away from that. She didn't mind using a few devices, like the ring, but she didn't want to change who she was.

And she was fully aware of the irony behind _that _statement.

"No," she said. "I'd just like to feel like I got a full night, that's all."

Lilah said, "Sure," and picked up the phone. "Pharmaceuticals? Get me Dr. Ngogo. Miles. Lilah Morgan. I'm sending down one of my operatives -- she needs to get a night's sleep in a pill. Okay, a potion, you know what I mean. Cameron Kim. Right. She'll be right down." Then she hung up and said, "Go to Dr. Ngogo, pharmaceuticals, third floor. He'll make sure you get what you want."

"Thank you."

"No problem. We need you at your peak. None of us function well when we're exhausted. If that's all--"

Considering herself dismissed, Cameron left.


	18. Upstairs, Downstairs

Author's Note: Slowly but surely, we move forward. And so does someone else . . .

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns the Buffyverse; Glenn Eichler owns the Dariaverse; I own the other characters.

X X X X X

When Lynette Vaughn went down to the Hyperion lobby at a bit after 3 in the afternoon, there were four people already there.

Technically, three people and one vampire. Xander Harris and Anya were sitting on one of the couches, having a polite disagreement about something.

The disagreement between Spike and Faith was decidedly less polite, and a lot less quiet. "You had to go and bleedin' take the last everything bagel, didn't you?" the vampire said.

"Yeah. You caught me, Spike. This is that big conspiracy you were worryin' about, and it was all about makin' sure you you didn't get the bagel you wanted. How the fuck was I supposed to know you'd even want a bagel in the first place? Most vamps I meet drink blood, booze, maybe coffee. I didn't realize I was dealin' with the gallopin' gourmet of the bloodsucking crowd."

"Yeah, well, I don't get hungry, but I still like a little bit of variety in what I taste. I'm different from most vampires." The words might not have been hostile, but the tone definitely was.

"Well, if you don't get out of my face, you're gonna be exactly like most vampire I've run into." How Xander and Anya were ignoring this, Lynette had no idea. They must have been discussing something fairly important.

"That sounded like a threat to me, love," Spike said.

"Good," Faith said. "Then I said it right."

Spike took a half step forward. Okay, now she needed to intervene before the situation got out of hand and someone got hurt. Someone mostly meaning Faith, of course. But Buffy Summers seemed to want this vampire around -- why, she wasn't entirely sure; wasn't Angel the only one who could be trusted because of his soul? -- and so if Faith killed him, that might damage the fragile bond starting to reform between the young women.

"Okay, _enough_!" Lynette said firmly from her position halfway up the staircase.

Everyone in the room stopped. Even Xander and Anya quit talking, and Lynette hadn't even been talking to them. (Lynette's secret? She'd been dealing with criminals, some of them hardened felons, for the last ten-eleven years or so. Sometimes a psychiatrist needed a calm, soothing voice. And sometimes you needed to tell them to sit down and shut up, and have them do it without question. "Not you," she told Xander and Anya. "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Anya said brightly. "Teach me how to do that sometime." Then they got back to their discussion.

"As for you two," Lynette said as she came the rest of the way down the stairs, "Whatever you're fighting about, it isn't bagels."

"I like supreme bagels," Spike said sullenly. "With the sesame and poppy seeds and the onions and salt? Lots of flavor. Lots of texture. Just what I like."

"I have no doubt you do," Lynette said. "But if that's what you're really angry about, I'm Hillary Clinton."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Hill, but I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't, Spikey," Faith said. "You been raggin' on DM and me ever since B told you about us, but this is all about a fuckin' bagel."

Faith was right, but she wasn't really helping. "Faith," Lynette said, "I think that this might be a good time for Daria to put in an appearance." When Faith began to protest, Lynette added, "Cameron Kim could come through the hotel doors any minute. We don't want her to find out you still exist." It was the only reason Lynette could think of for Wolfram & Hart to have her following Daria. She didn't know the reason behind the reason, but at the moment there were other things to worry about.

"Yeah, guess you're right," Faith said. Then, to Spike, "But quit givin' us a hard time, blondie. DM especially. I'm willin' to live and let live."

"I'm not," Spike said.

"If I find out you're causin' DM any grief, I'm comin' for you."

Spike laughed. "Let me get this straight. If _you_ find out that I'm harassing _you_, then _you're_going to try to kill me." He shook his head. "Un-fucking-believable." Then he picked up a sesame seed bagel and walked away.

"So some vampires like to eat," Faith said. "Never woulda seen that one comin'."

From the couch, Xander said, "For whatever it's worth, Spike _has_ been known to eat before. He put some Weetabix in his blood, and once Buffy told me ordered and snacked on a plate of chicken wings. I'm not saying he's not trying to give you a hard time. I'm also not saying he's right or wrong to do it --" Hmmm. Xander Harris hadn't been actively hostile, but he hadn't been overly friendly either.

Interrupting, Anya said, "But you told me before sex this afternoon that you were still annoyed at her -- no, hold on," she said, noticing Xander's frantic gesturing, "This is yet another one of those moments I should be keeping to myself, right?" Xander nodded his head vigorously. "I don't see why. It's not like I told them the positions we tried out, or that one of them hurt your feet a whole lot, or --" Anya was a puzzle to Lynette Vaughn. She was clearly intelligent, yet seemed to be lacking all the rules of basic human interaction.

Of course, it wasn't necessarily a given that she was human.

Putting a hand over his girlfriend's mouth, Xander said, "An!" pleadingly, then looked nervously at Faith.

Faith grimaced, but said, "Don't worry about it. You got reason to be pissed at me. You wanna talk it out later at some point, I'd be happy to. All I can say is I'm sorry, and I already said it to you. Right now I'm mostly glad you ain't holdin' what I did against DM. Long as you don't do that, I got no beef with you."

"I wouldn't," Xander said. "I'm convinced by now this isn't some scheme. It still doesn't mean I like you. But I don't have to like you to work with you."

"Good to know. Uranium in the drinking water."

Abruptly her demeanor changed, and Daria said, deadpan, "The lobby of the Hyperion. No new and exotic locales, battles, or violent arguments. I think I win this round."

"This round?"

"Lately it seems that every time Faith and I switch who's in control of our body, we do so in the middle of some wacky situation or other. I'm standing in the middle of a hotel lobby holding a bagel with two bites out of it. Not exactly feeling the wackiness."

"You missed the confrontation by about thirty seconds," Anya said earnestly. "Spike and Faith were about to try to murder each other over that bagel you're holding."

"Let me guess. 'And whomsoever shall eat the bagel, shall be ruler of Camelot?'"

"Not quite," Lynette said, laughing. Then they talked for a few minutes.

As it turned out, Lynette's timing had been a bit short of perfect.

About three minutes later, Cameron Kim walked into the hotel.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim seemed surprisingly perky, especially considering that, unlike the rest of them, she hadn't gotten any sleep. But then, Wolfram & Hart probably had a treatment for that. They seemed to have a treatment for everything else.

She walked over towards Daria and Dr. Vaughn and said quietly, "Is everyone else asleep?"

"Hold on a second," Daria said. "I'll use my X-ray vision and check." She gazed upwards, then back at Cameron Kim, who had a mildly annoyed expression on her face. "They seem to be." Right then, Willow and Tara came down the stairs. Cameron and Dr. Vaughn looked at Daria. Hitting herself in the side of the head, Daria said, "That's the last time I buy _my_ superpowers from a pawnshop."

The good news was that Tara was walking down the stairs by herself, though slowly, holding tightly onto the balustrade, and with Willow hovering nearby. Daria walked over to the base of the stairs and said to Tara, "it looks like you're feeling better."

"Somewhat, yes," Tara said. "I actually don't feel like I'm about to collapse every step of the way." And on saying that, she stumbled. Daria caught her. "I should have known that would happen," Tara said. "The laws of irony and all that."

Willow said, "Sweetie, I told you you were pushing things too fast."

With a look of loving exasperation, Tara said, "I tripped. It's, it's not like I fell into a coma." Willow looked hurt by Tara's words. "Listen. I'm not going to go out and run a marathon. Or even a hundred-yard dash. But I don't feel like I'm going to break if somebody sneezes on me. I'll, you know, let you know if I do." Then, a bit more softly, "I _will_ let you know."

"I'm sorry," Daria said. "I seem to have stepped into an awkward moment. I'm very good at doing that. It's not a talent I especially need to cultivate."

"Don't worry about it," Tara said. "And thank you for catching me."

A look of annoyance flashed across Willow's face, but she quickly suppressed it. "Yes. Thank you," she said. "It seems half of what you do around here is rescue Tara."

Despite the veneer of pleasantness Willow's words had, there was a dangerous undercurrent of hostility there. Rather than force the issue into the open -- Willow had been able to suppress her irritation so far with reasonable success, present circumstances excepted -- Daria decided to let things cool down. "Nothing you wouldn't have done," she said, and passed support of Tara back to her girlfriend.

Tara let Willow guide her to one of the lobby couches, but flashed Daria a smile -- which, thankfully, Willow didn't seem to catch -- as she did so.

With that done, Daria walked back over to where Dr. Vaughn and Cameron Kim were talking. Dr. Vaughn seemed to be giving her a narrative of last night's travails -- heavily edited, of course, to omit any mention of Faith.

When she saw Daria walk over, Cameron said, "Sounds like you certainly did your part," just a shade too casually.

"My life, and everyone else's, was in danger. I did what was necessary. Buffy and Spike did most of the actual fighting."

"I saw you on top of the RV roof," Cameron said. "Don't downplay what you did."

"I'm not also. I'm also not building up to be more than it is. I assisted Buffy when she needed help. She did most of the fighting." Daria kept any hint of irritation out of her voice.

"Is that where you got the flail?" Daria had had to carry Faith's flail into the hotel.

"The person who had been using it didn't seem to need it anymore," Daria said. "He was too busy trying to learn how to fly."

Cameron laughed -- and the laugh, unlike the forced and remarkably unsubtle earlier part of the conversation, seemed genuine. Then, changing the subject, she said, Look. My employers would like me to stay with you. If you have any objections --"

Before Daria, Dr, Vaughn, or anyone else in the room could answer the question, a voice from the top of the stairway said, "I object."

They all turned and saw Buffy walking down the steps. "You see, Ms. Kim . . . we know who your employer is."

X X X X X

As the cab dropped her off in front of the Hyperion, Cameron Kim hung up her cell phone. This time, she'd just been riding as herself; but then, she wasn't going for speed this time.

She walked into the lobby and made a beeline over to Daria Morgendorffer and Lynette Vaughn, but while she got a thrilling story of how everyone inside had survived the siege, she didn't learn anything she could take back to Lilah Morgan. She hadn't expected to, really; Dr. Vaughn and Daria were both exceptionally intelligent. If they were hiding something, it would be difficult to ferret it out.

Of course, she thought, smiling inwardly, if they weren't, it would be even harder.

And then Buffy Summers came down the stairs and made her announcement.

Cameron gasped in shock. How did they know she worked for Wolfram & Hart? She hadn't let it slip. She was sure of it. "How did you know?"

Daria said, "Don't worry. You didn't give yourself away. We've known who your employers are since well before you arrived in Sunnydale."

"How?"

Dr. Vaughn said, "Remember the man who owns this building?"

"A man your bosses don't like a lot?" Xander said. "Not that I do either, but I don't want him dead. Today, anyway."

"We've been investigating you and Mrs. Krueger ever since you first showed up in Daria's prison cell," Dr. Vaughn said.

"I'd really like to come with you," Cameron said.

Buffy Summers shook her head. "Given who your bosses are --"

"Look," Cameron said. "It's important that I do this." Very important.

"Important for whom?" Daria asked. "You, us, or your superiors at -- and let's get the name out in the open -- Wolfram & Hart?"

Cameron sighed. "All three. Listen. If you'll just let me talk to you --"

"Not by yourself," Buffy said. "There's always the chance you could try to knock me out and impersonate me." That wasn't going to happen, of course. "Daria, Dr. Vaughn, if you'd come upstairs with her?"

And, obviously, it would be a lot more difficult for Cameron to defeat two Slayers -- and she doubted Lynette Vaughn was a pushover, either, given her chosen profession. But she wouldn't have dreamed of doing that. For one, she actually liked these people. For another, it would be too easy to catch her. To carry off a successful impersonation of a specific person, you needed to either study your chosen target carefully, or have the cooperation of some of the person's friends. (That was the usual way it worked, with their celebrity impersonations.) If she tried to knock one of the Slayers out and replace them, she'd have neither.

"You want the rest of us?" Willow asked.

"Naah," Buffy said. "Sit. Eat. Maybe think about ordering something a bit more substantial; Angel's got a ton of menus in the back."

"Maybe some more pig's blood, too," Spike said, walking in from the back. "Peaches is fresh out."

"Angel can pick up his own pig's blood," Buffy said. "Maybe Chinese."

"Also maybe we might want to talk about gettin' the hell out of Dodge," Spike said.

"I've got that taken care of," Dr. Vaughn said. "We've got a few hours to go yet. I'll tell you more about it when I get back downstairs."

"Here, now," Spike said. "What makes you think you get to make the decisions for all of us?"

"Because I'm the one paying," Dr. Vaughn said.

"Right. Good point." He looked around the room. "We got any more bagels left? I need something to get this pig's blood taste out of my mouth."

And with that, Cameron, Buffy, Daria, and Dr. Vaughn went upstairs.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus popped in a couple of times in the next several hours. Apparently this had annoyed Ben, but Glory didn't care what he thought about at the best of times.

"It's too soon," she said as soon as she realized she was herself.

"I know," Doc said. "Further proof that the barriers between the two of you are weakening."

"And second thing -- why the freaking hell am I chained to my bed?"

"Please don't break the chains, divine one," Doc said. "It seems young Ben was most put out by your plan to go charging off to the wilds of Kern County. He seemed to think it would place a crimp in his plans to become a doctor. When he protested, we had to restrain."

"Okay. Then why aren't you getting me out of --"

The next time she came to, she was in the back of a van, similarly chained, surrounded by minions. Doc looked down and said, "Ah. Divine one. I trust you understand the answer to your question now."

"Of course I do," Glory said. "We can't have Ben running away. Still doesn't make these chains any more comfortable."

"I looked for more comfortable chains, your wondrousness," one of the minions said. "But I couldn't find any."

"Use my skin!" One of them said. "Use my skin to protect your own radiant . . . skin."

"Oh, stuff a sock in it," Glory said to them. Then to Doc: "Same as last time?"

"I'm afraid so," Doc said. "You could fade out at any mo--"

The third time was the charm. They were parked across the street from a building. Doc immediately bent down, took out a key, and released her. It seemed to be late in the afternoon.

"Okay then," she said. "Where are we?"

"We," Doc said, "are across the street from the Kern County Sheriff's Office. "Posing as a reporter, I found out that several members of the Knights of Byzantium are still being held inside there."

"Well, then," Glory said. "I think it's time to go ask them a few questions."


	19. Secret Origins

Author's Note: The first person who gets both of my unexplained references in this fic gets to ask me one private question about the future of the story.

Disclaimer: Joss owns the _Buffy _charactersGlenn owns the _Daria_ characters; I own everyone else.

X X X X X

The discussion of what to do with Cameron Kim was short, but intense. Eventually, they arrived at a plan that satisfied no one completely, which meant it was a workable compromise.

The discussion that led to the discussion was longer and more interesting.

Buffy got it started with what seemed like a perfectly reasonable question: "Ms. Kim -- you seem like a nice, decent, honorable person."

"I prefer ethical to honorable," Cameron said. "I have a code of ethics I won't break. That doesn't necessarily equal traditional notions of what honor is."

"Okay, ethical, then," Buffy said. "The point is, that still puts you leagues ahead of most of the other people who work for your firm."

But Cameron was shaking her head, "Not quite," she said. "Not nearly everyone who works for Wolfram & Hart is evil. A lot of its operatives, most of the higher-ups, and certainly everyone in a position of real power. But not everyone at Wolfram & Hart is a lawyer, an operative, or a department head. There are a lot of regular employees who are driven by more or less the same thing that motive I am: To deliver a good week's work for a good week's pay."

Dr. Vaughn frowned. "You mean you're doing this just for a paycheck?"

"Yes, but not the way you're thinking," Cameron said. "If I was just after money, there are a lot of other, less dangerous and more rewarding ways I could go about it. I could imitate bank tellers, celebrities, or anyone with access to a lot of money, take it, and stick the person I was imitating with, at the very least, a long and awkward conversation with the police. I don't. I don't like to hurt other people."

"That didn't appear to be an issue where the Knights of Byzantium were concerned," Daria said.

"I said I didn't like it, not that I wouldn't do it if I had to. I'm not a pacifist; I believe in self-defense. Usually I try to fix my problems in ways that hurt other people as little as possible."

"So if it's not the money . . ." Dr. Vaughn prompted.

"It's because I said I would," Cameron said. "More specifically, it's because I have a contract with them. I honor my obligations. I live up to the terms of my contract."

"And if your employers told you to kill us?" Buffy asked.

"They wouldn't be likely to. They know my distaste for violence -- and they have people whose job it is to do violent things when it becomes necessary. I don't like most of them. After a second, Cameron added, "Of course, this is all off the record."

"We're not going to tell anyone," Buffy said. "And if your employers told you to kill us?"

Cameron sighed. "If they told me to kill you, I'd have to try to do it," Cameron said. "I hope like hell they don't."

"Because you don't like violence," Daria said.

"Partly. Partly because I actually like most of you."

"And that goes to the heart of why we have difficulty trusting you," Buffy said.

"I have no standing orders to kill anyone here," Cameron said. "And if I do, I'll give you fair warning before trying."

"Won't that violate your contract?" Daria asked, smiling faintly.

Cameron's return smile was broader. "No." Then she sobered up. "But then I'll try. I'll have to. It's in my contract."

"And we'll try to kill you back," Buffy said.

"I know. Hell, you'll probably succeed. You're the Slayer, she's got Slayer abilities, and you've got two witches and a vampire downstairs. But I'd try."

Buffy asked, "Are your orders right now to cooperate with us until you find out a couple of specific things?"

After hesitating a second, Cameron said, "yes."

"Is one of those things whether Faith still exists?" Daria said. "No. don't answer. I suspect you may not be able to, by the terms of your contract. It's something I can settle for you right now. Buffy. Come over and spar with me for a minute." Looking a bit puzzled, Buffy got up. "Watch carefully," Daria said.

Then she and Buffy fought for a minute or so, Daria mostly defensively. Clearly, there was some ability there, but just as clearly, it was largely untrained. The stopped, and Daria said, "Give me a moment," then closed her eyes for about fifteen seconds. When she opened them again, she said, "Buffy?"

Buffy came over and the two started whaling away at each other, quickly and furiously. "You will note," Daria said during the brief tussle, "That at no time does my personality leave my body." She nodded at Buffy to stop, and she did. Daria thanked her.

Then, to Cameron: "That's what survives of Faith in me. It's called muscle memory. If I concentrate, I can access her fighting skills. On my own, I am a competent fighter. But only competent. This is why I tend to stay out of fights, if can avoid them. There is frequently not enough time to concentrate.

Cameron nodded, apparently convinced. "Which would explain some of the moves I've seen you perform, without Faith still having to be around."

"Exactly," Daria said. "Now. Then. Buffy asked you a question a while back, and that question remains unanswered. Granted that you have a code of ethics. So, how _did_ someone with a code of ethics come to work for Wolfram & Hart?"

"Well . . ."

X X X X X

To fully answer your question (Cameron began), there are a few things you need to know about me. One is that I started to shapeshift long before I had any real idea of what I was doing. It would drive my parents crazy, and this despite the fact that they were fairly familiar with the world of the supernatural. Mom was an art professor; dad was an occult scholar. But they made their money tracking down mystical artifacts.

I have no idea where my powers come from. Mom and Dad were the children of Korean immigrants, and my grandparents are as human as . . . well, as human as you anyway, Dr. Vaughn. Chalk it up as a mystery. Or a mutation. Where they came from has never bothered me all that much.

Mom and Dad were good parents, given their profession. They simply couldn't handle turning around, and where there had once been their 3-year old daughter playing with a dog, there were now two identical dogs. The first couple of times it happened, they brought me home safe. The third time, though -- they took the dog home by mistake, and the dog's owner, once he got home was wondering what this little naked Korean girl was doing on their doggie bed, and also where the hell his dog was. That's when they broke down and decided to get help.

("Let me guess," Dr. Vaughn said. "Wolfram & Hart was happy to provide this help." "Overjoyed.")

But my parents contacted them. I loved my parents, but they were willing to track things down for anyone who had the money, which is how they knew the place. And so I went to a "private school" they funded for people with abilities like mine. And before anyone makes an X-Men reference, I'm already well aware of the comparison. I'm guessing the private name the other students gave it -- "The Massachusetts Academy" -- was a reference of some sort.

Unfortunately, we didn't have a Professor Xavier. The teachers didn't mistreat us, exactly, but they weren't there to provide affection; they were there to do a job. And there was just enough social activity to keep us from going crazy. It wasn't torture, but I don't remember my time there very fondly.

It took them five years, off and on, to teach me how to control my abilities -- how to pick the right kind of animal, how to imitate people well instead of just their outward appearances, even how to selectively improve my natural abilities.

("Such as?" Daria asked. "I can improve my eyesight, my hearing and my sense of smell. If I work at it -- and I learned this myself -- I can close up any wounds I get. But that requires me to be conscious, and it takes a lot of energy, so I don't bother with it for scratches.")

And so I came back to live full-time with my parents when I was 10 years old, and they no longer had to worry about me pulling stupid stunts. It cost them a lot to get me into that school; for the rest of their lives, they were exclusive to Wolfram & Hart. It cost me more . . . but I'll get back to that later.

Mom and Dad may have been mercenary as all hell, but they never even thought of using my abilities to make their own jobs easier. And as long as I didn't become a public nuisance, they didn't care what I turned into, or when I turned into it.

It's why I'm sure they didn't know -- no. That's still for later. Anyway, when I became a teenager, I began to use my abilities to help myself out in school. Not by cheating -- but by altering my body so that boys would pay more attention to me. As you may have noticed, I'm not gorgeous. I'm not ugly, but I'm not someone most men look at twice when there are better-looking women in the room. So, a slight increase in my bust size here, a deepening of the brown in my eyes there . . . and the boys paid attention.

("You didn't cheat? Not even once?" Buffy asked. "Forget wondering why you work for Wolfram & Hart. I'm wondering why you haven't been nominated for sainthood.")

Okay, I did cheat a couple of times. But my parents figured it out. It was hard not to when their C math student of a daughter all of a sudden brought home several A's in a row. They may have been mercenary, but they were also academics -- and they were dead set against any kind of cheating.

So I didn't use my abilities to my advantage for trivial things like cheating on tests -- yes, boys excepted, but I was a reasonably hormone-filled 14-year old girl. I think that's excusable. I used it to have fun -- and I did save my parents' life once, from a vampire, as it turned out. He wasn't quite as ready to deal with a large wolf as he was three human beings. And I grew up content, well-cared for, and eventually became secure enough about what I look like that I didn't even bother with the shapeshifter equivalent of bra-stuffing any longer.

I went to UCLA when I was 18 -- I wanted to study animal biology. Mammals, especially. I've never liked changing into anything cold-blooded. Anaconda is the only one I've taken more than a handful of times.

But when I was 19, everything changed. I was telling you earlier that my parents never used me for their benefit. That's why I'm sure they couldn't have known what was in that contract they signed.

My parents died. Car crash. Nothing sinister about it; they were blindsided by a taxi trying to barrel its way through an intersection after the light had turned red. I don't like cab drivers much.

A month or so after their deaths, when I was back at college, I got a visit from a Wolfram & Hart representative. After a couple minutes telling me how sorry he was about my parent's deaths, he brought out the contract.

The one my parents had signed fourteen years earlier, when they'd sent me to The Massachusetts Academy. The representative helpfully pointed out the terms: My parents would track down artifacts for a period of fifteen years after my "graduation" from the school, and if that they broke this contract, my services would belong to Wolfram & Hart. Or . . . my parents' services would still belong to them.

"They died," I said. "That's not breaking a contract."

As it turns out, for them, it is. I pointed out that no court in the country would enforce a contract like that.

("Let me hazard a guess," Daria said. "They helpfully informed you that they wouldn't be enforcing this contract through the courts." "More or less.")

I knew what they meant by that. And I didn't want my parents to suffer.

Then they brought out the carrot. The rep showed me a completely different contract - -said they'd write off my parents' debts if I signed it -- I'd still have to work for them, but I'd bring home a good salary, at least, and my parents would be completely out of the picture, and safe.

The contract itself was four pages long and printed so small that Superman would have had a hard time reading it. I'm sure the Wolfram & Hart rep was expecting me to be so overwhelmed with relief that I'd blindly sign whatever he put in front of me.

He even impatiently tapped the signature line with his fancy pen -- you one, one of those things that costs more than a good used car.

I told him to hold on while I read over it. He said that would take me all day. I said that I wasn't going anywhere, anyway. I read this or I don't sign anything

Grumbling, he sat down and waited. Looking over the contract took me several hours. When I was finally done, I took a black marker out of my purse and crossed out two clauses: The same "after-death" clause that had allowed the company to bully me, and the one that allowed them to force-feed skills, information, at their whim, or allow them to remove or alter parts of my personality.

("Such as your code of ethics," Dr. Vaughn said. "No, I'm reasonably sure they wanted that intact.")

After all, it's what I learned from my parents: You give your word, you sign a contract, and you stick by it.

Then I handed the rep back the contract and told him that if he came back tomorrow with one missing the two clauses I'd blacked out, I'd sign happily. Otherwise, they could have a surly and uncooperative employee who would stick by the _letter_ of her contract. And when they brought it back tomorrow, I'd be rereading the whole thing.

He said he'd take it to his superiors and they'd see what they could do. Yes, he _did _sound exactly like a used car salesman.

To make a long story short, he came back the next day and gave me what I wanted. I suspect I should have asked for more, but he'd done what I asked.

("And you gave your word." "Just so." "That's honorable, in my book." "I don't think we need to quibble over the terminology.")

So I signed on and started working for them. Part time at first until I graduated, then full time after that. I never did get my doctorate in mammal biology, but I intend to at some point.

("When does the contract expire?" Buffy asked. "Expire?" Cameron asked in disbelief.)

X X X X X

"And that brings us to where we are today," Cameron said.

"And to what we're about to do," Buffy said. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go tell them."


	20. Follow

Author's Note: As no one actually took me up on my challenge, I explain The Massachusetts Academy in the text below. As for _Secret Origins_, it was a DC Comic from the '80s where they retold hero origin stories. If you're interested.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine, except for Dr. Vaughn, Cameron Kim, and the storyline.

X X X X X

Daria, Buffy, and Dr. Vaughn descended the stairs. While they'd had their discussion with Cameron Kim, Giles had also woken up. Buffy shook her head halfway down. "You mean that sister of mine is _still_ asleep?"

"Apparently so," Giles said.

"Well, we're not going to stay ahead of Glory by sleeping all day. Will. Did you get it done?"

"Yup," Willow said.

"And everyone understands why?"

Giles said, "Not as such, no. It doesn't --"

"I'll explain it once the gang's all here," Buffy said. "Hold on while I go get my lazybones of a sister."

She disappeared up the stairs, and Daria and Dr. Vaughn finished coming down.

As Dr. Vaughn moved over to look at a protesting Giles, Daria walked over to Xander and Anya and asked Xander, "I understand you're a comic book fan. Am I right?"

"I try not to nose it around -- costs me cool points," Xander said.

"Oh, _those_," Anya said. "You never had those." At Xander's mild glare, she said. "But please continue."

Daria did so. "During our conversation, Cameron discussed her past -- and mentioned that she spent time in a private school designed to teach her how to control and use her powers. The students nicknamed it The Massachusetts Academy. None of us got the reference."

"You came to the right place," Xander said sagely. "The Massachusetts Academy was the rival school to Professor Xavier's for mutants in the X-Men -- led by the evil White Queen, Emma Frost."

"And they trained students to be bad guys."

"Yup," Xander said.

"Thank you."

Buffy started coming back down the stairway then. "I was having a great dream," came a moderately surly voice from behind her.

"And if you want to _keep_ having great dreams, Dawn, we're going to need to get going."

"Hey," she said. "Where's Cameron Kim?"

"And that's the question of the day," Buffy said.

"Personally, I'm hopin' you killed her," Spike said.

"No," Buffy said, glaring.

"And then there's why you had me do that spell," Willow said.

Impatiently, Buffy said, "I'm getting to that. Okay. Here's the way it's going to go down. As usual, this isn't open for debate. Cameron Kim will not -- exactly -- be coming with us."

"So if she's not dead, did you knock her out and leave her tied up upstairs?" Spike asked.

"And how long, exactly, would being tied up hold a shapeshifter? I'd give even odds at thirty seconds or less. There's very little we could do, short of outright murder."

"Ain't like you to be so gutless, Faith," Spike said.

"Were I Faith, I'm certain I would even now be running across the room with the intention of 'wiping that smirk off your face,' and, quite possibly, reducing you to your component atoms. As I am not, in fact, Faith, I will give you accusation all of the response it truly deserves."

There followed a period of silence; then Spike said, "Well?" Daria gave no reply. "I said, _well?_" There was still no answer. Finally, the vampire seemed to catch on. "Ha bloody ha."

Daria simply gave a Mona Lisa smile.

"Anyway," Buffy said forcefully, "She's not dead. And, barring her keeling over of a heart attack, she's not going to be that way. Once again. Not open for debate, discussion, or vote. Now. As Cameron pointed out, she could find a way to follow us, whether we wanted her to or not. So we figured we may as well take advantage of that. So she'll follow us, and find some way of letting one of us know who she is. Then, if Glory or the Knights of Byzantium show up after 'the Key,'" --

Excitedly, Tara said, "She, she's going to be our secret weapon."

"More or less," Buffy said. "Though we have to remember that she may want to stop Glorificus as much as we do --" of that much, at least, Daria was convinced; based on the hellgod's abilities the only people would who would attack her would be the dedicated or insane. There was a fine lien there. Sometimes so fine it was invisible. But not in this case. Cameron Kim may work for the irredeemably evil, but she isn't crazy.

Willow was smiling. "And that explains the spell."

"Exactly," Buffy said. "What is it, Dawn?"

"What spell?"

"We can't tell you," Willow said.

The young woman looked hurt. "Not _won't,_ Dawnie," Tara said. "_Can't._ Part of the spell involves not being able to tell anyone what the spell was."

"It's nothing you need to worry about," Buffy said firmly.

"But --"

"No."

"Have I mentioned that I hate it when you get overprotective?"

Buffy made a show of thinking and counting on her fingers. "Hold on. Let me work this out . . . this makes . . . . a jillion and three."

Then, before there was time for more than one squeal of protest, Buffy said, "Anyway. Like I was saying. Cameron might want to stop Glory as much as we do, but we have to remember who her employers are. Wolfram & Hart. She might not be evil. They are. She doesn't want to hurt us --"

"And you believe her?" Spike asked, sneering.

"Yes, I do," Buffy said. "And so do Daria and Dr. Vaughn."

"Wonderful," Spike said. "So I'm taking the word of one killer that another killer is trustworthy. Bloody wonderful."

"And that killer's psychiatrist," Dr. Vaughn said, smiling. Daria could tell she was trying to needle Spike, so she didn't take offense.

"Anyone else care to debate this issue?" Buffy asked with a note of warning in her voice.

"Actually --" Anya said, then stopped when Buffy glared at her. "Never mind. Let the killer shapeshifter follow us. I'm sure it'll seem like a good idea when she's murdering us in our sleep. I'll just hope she saves me for last so I can come out with one last hearty I told you so." Daria actually kind of admired Anya's talent for sarcasm, if not this specific application.

"Knew I liked you," Spike said.

"Buffy, I do wonder about this," Giles said. "Is it really a good idea to have someone following after us whose loyalties may switch at any moment?"

"They're going to send someone after us anyway," Buffy said. "And her loyalties _won't_ switch. Her loyalties lie with whatever Wolfram & Hart tells her to do. So I'd rather know who we have following us, someone who seems like a fundamentally decent human being, rather than someone like --"

"Mrs. Krueger," Daria said.

"Who?"

"The woman who tried to kill me in prison," Daria said. "She can walk through walls, and has a metallic hand she very nearly managed to strangle me with. And she seemed truly evil. Of course, I may be biased. She _was_ trying to murder me at the time. Perhaps when she's not hiring out as an assassin, she's trying to outdo Mother Teresa in charitable good works. Call me crazy. But I doubt it."

"In any event," Giles said, sighing, "I suppose you're right. Better the devil you know."

"So Cameron knows when we're leaving and where . . . it's up to her to follow us," Buffy said.

"That puts her up on the rest of us, Buff," Xander said. "Where is this little caravan of ours headed? 'cause if I have a choice, I'm voting Vegas."

"Vegas is a demon's paradise," Spike said. "We'd be better off stayin' in Sunnydale. Not a good idea."

"Tell, tell me something," Tara said. "Is there a city in the world that _isn't_ a demon's paradise?"

"Omaha," Spike and Anya said at the same time.

"Back to the topic," Buffy said. "Remember why we're doing this, Xander," Buffy said. "This isn't a tour group."

Xander said, "Just trying to keep things light. I know we're not here to gamble."

Anya said, "Yes. The only gambling we'll be doing is with our lives." Buffy glared at her. She was really quite good at that, Daria noticed. "And in that case," she said with obvious false cheer, "I'm betting on us."

"Nice save," Daria muttered.

"Thanks. I've gotten a lot of practice."

"Yes," Dr. Vaughn said. "I booked us ten tickets to St. Louis."

Everyone looked at Spike. "What?" he finally said after a minute. "It's not the best place in the world, but we could do worse. Especially if we hang around the airport and the hotel most of the time, which if we ain't morons is what we'll be doing."

"We ain't morons," Daria said dryly. Spike glowered at her, but didn't say anything.

"In case any of you are wondering," Buffy said, "Cameron Kim will be getting her own ticket."

"I wouldn't care if she rode out on the bloody wing," Spike said.

Buffy clapped her hands; Daria suspected it was more to stop Spike from taking any more shots at Cameron Kim than anything else. "Go pack up. The flight leaves at about 8:30."

"Also, some of you are going to have to take a taxi," Dr. Vaughn said. "I'm going to go tell my husband part of what's going on so he doesn't worry about me. I'll meet you all at the airport."

Buffy said, "Okay. Ready . . . . break!"

X X X X X

Of course, Cameron Kim had heard everything Buffy Summers had told her friends. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Slayer -- she did. But it was always interesting to hear what people thought of you when no one knew you were listening.

Of course, they should have known she'd be listening, with her abilities, but it hadn't been as though she wasn't expecting what she heard. The vampire's antagonism had been open since the beginning, and no one else, with the exceptions of Buffy, Daria, and Lynette Vaughn, had made any effort to get to know her.

Still, she could hardly blame them for being mistrustful, though she suspected the vampire's hostility was at least half reflexive protectiveness towards the Slayer and her friends. She'd love to know how that happened, just out of sheer curiosity. She'd never met a vampire before who acted this way. Yes, there was Angel, but he was _supposed_ to be one of a kind.

As soon as the meeting had ended, she'd called Wolfram & Hart and explained what was going on. Lilah had seemed to cautiously approve of the plan -- "You have plenty of leeway, Kim. Just don't forget why you're there--" and had told her to report in when she could. "Oh," she'd added. "And don't worry about Gavin. He's too busy trying to explain to his superiors why his plan to bug the Angel Investigation offices failed."

Cameron had laughed about it, but then had added, "He'll be able to come by after we leave," she said.

"Yeah -- but now I know about it," Lilah had said, "And at least I can demand equal access. So far, this mission of yours is working out nicely, Kim, if not exactly how we expected it to."

And that had more or less been that. Lilah had authorized her expenses so far, and pre-authorized anything Cameron needed to travel to St. Louis, or to wherever the Slayer and her friends ended up. "Within reason, of course." Well, of course; it wasn't like Cameron was going to be booking the luxury suite at whatever hotel Buffy Summers' group wound up staying at.

So next, it was out to LAX.

Should be interesting.

X X X X X

The minions went in first, of course. That's what they were there for, after all: to be cannon fodder. The Divine Glorificus and Doc followed. There were still police officers resisting when Glory went inside. Honestly, she couldn't have cared about them. "Where are the Knights?" she said.

Someone shot at her. They shot! At her!

And it put a hole through her brand new red leather dress. Grrrr! This just would. Not. Do.

She hadn't wanted to kill them, really she hadn't, but _no one _put a hole in her clothes and got away with it. Speeding up, she raced around the room, slaughtering most of them before they could get off another shot.

A couple she left alive. "Minions!" She yelled.

"Yes, your illustrious rapidity?" One of them asked.

"Tie them up," she said. "I'm going to be hungry when I'm done. Doc! I'm going to find the Knights. Keep an eye on things up here."

"Might I suggest, divine one," Doc said. "That you forgo your usual list of ever-increasing tortures and instead go right to the final attempts? The Knights of Byzantium are not likely to respond to anything less. In the meantime, I will try to find out where the Slayer has gotten to."

"Good idea. Thank you. Why can't the rest of you come up with ideas like that?" After a second, she went on, "Never mind. It's because you're idiots."

She left the room before she could hear them prattling about how true it was. She _knew_ it was true.

Along the way to the jail area, she had to kill another dozen or so police. This could lead to trouble -- if she wasn't about to leave this dimension for another one. Oh well. It wasn't like, when she was done, there'd be anyone left alive to say who she was.

Finally, she found the Knights of Byzantium. "Hello, boys," she said, grinning. "Now. We can do this the hard way or -- well, there's just the hard way. So. Tell me more about this Key you were chasing."

"We will tell you nothing," one of them said. "You're going to kill us anyway."

"True." Then she yanked open the cell door and threw the one who'd just spoken up against the cell wall. "Anyone else want to volunteer to be next?"

"I am not afraid of death," One said.

"None of us are," added another one.

They then did their best to prove it, as Glory beat and killed three more of them.

It was the fourth one who finally broke. "Okay," he screamed. "Okay! Just make it stop!"

"Talk."

"God will not judge you favorably for this, brother," one of the other ones said.

"You'll be asking him yourself soon enough, so quit your whining," Glory said. "Now. You. Talk."

What she was told surprised her.

Glory had been wrong. It wasn't that little blonde witch.

It was the Slayer's little sister. The one she'd had in her frigging _hands_ a month or so ago, and had let slip through her fingers.

Well, she wouldn't make _that_ mistake twice.


	21. Fearful Symmetry

Author's Note: A little timejumping this part -- it fit the structure of the story well. I'll be getting back to Glory's assault on the police in the next chapter -- and seeing how Daria et al. deal with it . . .

Disclaimer: Daria, Buffy, original characters; Glenn, Joss, me.

X X X X X

Buffy watched to make sure everyone made it back upstairs -- even Tara, though in Tara's case it was Willow she'd had to talk down, not Tara, who'd been halfway up the stairs before Willow was even out of her seat.

Buffy suspected that Tara didn't want Willow babying her; she also suspected that there was very little that Tara was going to be able to do about it, short of telling Willow to get the hell away from her -- and Tara was too nice to do that.

Of course, Tara still needed some babying, whether she wanted it or not. She was acting just like someone who's been sick for a week tries to go full tilt the second they start feeling better . When she _got_ to that point halfway up the steps, she stumbled.

Daria caught her. A look of fury flashed across Willow's face when this happened. It couldn't be jealousy, so it had to still be some of those unresolved issues Willow had with Faith.

Unfortunately, now wasn't the time to resolve any of them. Given their plan, Faith wasn't going to be able to come out very much in the next few days, until the situation with Glory resolved itself. With Cameron Kim possibly around every corner -- even though she, Daria, and Dr, Vaughn would usually all know the form she'd taken -- that meant they'd need to keep Faith under wraps unless an emergency hit.

If that emergency hit, they had a ready-made excuse; Daria's "muscle memory." It even occurred to Buffy that maybe, once this one, she could try training Daria (if she was still interested) while she was accessing that muscle memory. It would be difficult trying to do anything with someone whose only Slayer instinct involved a vague knowledge of how to use weapons.

Still, if she was interested, Buffy felt that she was almost obliged to do it. And Daria's intelligence definitely did seem to make up for a lot. It wasn't so much that she was smart -- she was -- as that she thought quickly when she had to.

Buffy could pick up monster attack patterns by observation or by instinct. She'd used both in her years. But if all of her instincts deserted her? All of her knowledge of how to use weaponry, even her rusty sense of when something hinky on the supernatural side was going down, gone?

That possibility was frightening. Buffy would still try, but she hoped like hell it never happened to her.

Buffy was the last one up the stairs. Before she got to the door of her room, Cameron Kim walked up and said, "So. Not going to tell me what that spell was bout, huh?" Buffy wasn't surprised that she knew about it.

As they walked inside -- Buffy trusted that Cameron wasn't going to try to hit her over the head and take her place -- Buffy said, "Nope. Sorry. Need to know basis, and all that. I'm sure you understand."

"I do," Cameron said. "But it never hurts to ask."

"No, it doesn't," Buffy said. "Hey. Tell me something."

"If I think you need to know it," Cameron said, grinning.

"I suppose I deserved that. Look. Do you _like_ working for Wolfram & Hart?"

"No," Cameron said. "But I don't hate it. Ninety-five percent of the trouble falls on people who either don't do their jobs, or who play politics and lose. I don't do either. Apart from Gavin Park and Mrs. Krueger I don't have an enemy in the place."

"How'd you piss off Gavin Park?"

"The lawyers are the big cogs in the machine over there, and some of them get the idea that the rest of us are there to do anything they say. Especially when it comes to shapeshifters. Some of them get ideas. I hope you're catching my drift, because I'd really rather not get explicit. Most of them take no for an answer. Gavin didn't. It took a high-level slapdown for him to back off. And he hasn't forgiven me for it."

"The bastard."

"I don't think he likes women very much," Cameron said. "Anyway. Why do you ask?"

"Just keeping something in mind for the future," Buffy said. "Nothing to worry about now."

Cameron said, "If you're trying to come up with a way to get me out of my contract, I appreciate the effort, but don't worry about it. First off, like I said, I'm not sure I want to, and second, the Wolfram and Hart contracts are drawn up by some of the best contract lawyers in this or any other dimension. If Perry Mason and Matlock joined together and were assisted by F. Lee Bailey, Daniel Webster, and every last lawyer from _Law & Order_, they wouldn't be able to find a loophole." Then she smiled faintly. "But, like I said, thanks for the thought."

"You're welcome," Buffy said. "And it's not like I had a plan or anything. It's just something I've been giving some thought to."

"Like I said, I appreciate it. Anyway, I think I have all you're going to give me -- actually, I think I gave you more. Talk with you later." She walked away.

Looking around the room, Buffy reflected that it wasn't like they had a whole lot of packing to do, anyway. A change or two of clothes for each of them -- not even that, for Spike -- a handful of weapons, and some of Will and Tara's spell books and material, and that was about it. Daria and Faith also seemed to have this book they were reading.

Speaking of clothes, they'd have to find a laundromat when they got to St. Louis or they'd be able to Glory away by their smell alone.

All Buffy had, herself, was her clothes, a couple of stakes, and Olaf's Hammer. It would be fun trying to fit _that _through airport security.

Of course, it wasn't exactly like she could check a 150-pound hammer, either. She'd just have to trust that Willow's spell would hide even as she brazenly carried it through the airport metal detectors.

She supposed that Willow might even have a spell to make the weapons so light they could easily be checked through, but first, she wanted to have easy access on the chance she needed it, and second, she didn't want to keep relying on _deus ex Rosenberg_ to solve every single one of their problems.

Anyway. Clothes? Check. Weapons? Check.

That should do it. She should go downstairs and write Angel another note thanking him for the use of the hotel and warning him about Gavin Park, and then she should order some food and make sure everyone else was ready to head to LAX.

Maybe, just maybe, they'd be ready to pull this off.

X X X X X

Lynette Vaughn was happy that she was going to see her husband again. For all that their jobs tended to keep them apart for weeks at a time,, when they got together it was like no time had passed at all.

Her husband was surprised and pleased to see her. (He'd been holed up for the last few days working on the story for _Jill of the Forest_'s first season finale. Production was on a temporary hiatus for a couple of weeks before they started shooting the last few episodes.)

After she explained what was going on, he was still surprised, if a lot less pleased. (The account of the siege at the gas station in particular unnerved him. She could hardly blame him for that.) "Hon," he said. "You're asking a lot of me here. I get how much you want to help this girl. But this --"

"I know it's a lot," Lynette said. "It's a lot for me, and it's even more for you. But it's something I think I have to do."

"I don't like the idea of your life being in danger," Will said.

"I don't like the idea of my life being in danger, either. But what do you think I've been doing at that prison for the last ten years?

"Yeah. But then you were going to them. Now they're coming to you,"

She understood his concern. "You didn't married a woman who refuses to see things through," she said. "You knew how dedicated I was when we first started dating."

"Yeah," he said. "I did." Then he grinned. "Does this dedication mean we don't have time for a little fun?" He nodded to the bed.

Lynette stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She loved her husband; he was a brilliant man, a creative man, and he respected and loved her about as much as she did him. But he had no concept of subtle.

"I'd love to, but not today," she said.

X X X X X

Daria carefully wrote out a detailed explanation of what was going on, added a stern warning to rip up the note, and said, "Give us a kiss."

X X X X X

Faith came to in a Hyperion hotel room. A couple of outfits and the flail were packed up, and Watchmen sat on top of the bag. She was holding a note, so DM must've wanted to say something.

She quickly read it over. "Holy fuck," she said, half to herself, when she was done. Damn.

Not that she was thrilled with having to stay mostly inside DM for the next few days, though she'd promised to give her as much freedom as she could. That hadn't been why she'd swore, though. This plan B and them'd come up with took balls the size of grapefruits. To trust Cameron Kim that far?

Well, nothing she could do about it now even if she wanted to, unless she ran out into the hall and screamed it as loud as she could. 'course, that would let Wolfram & Hart know she was still around, which wasn't such a hot idea, and in any event, it wasn't like she thought the idea was bad one. Just damn gutsy. And Faith was hardly going to bitch about someone else making a gutsy move.

So, at the moment, nothing much to do but read for a few minutes. So she flipped open Watchmen to Chapter 5 for a second look -- Fearful Symmetry.

It was almost like --

Holy crap. The "V" in the center of the book -- when Ozymandias was beating back his attacker. It was there --

And this was part V.

_The entire fucking chapter was symmetrical_. Now that was weird. She closed the book again and started thinking.

This would be something interesting to hash out with DM, next time they spoke in their dreams. Maybe she'd get some sleep on the plane, because Faith _really_ wanted to talk about this. Yeah, she was excited about something she'd read that wasn't a new weapon, But this was cool. And Daria was hardly one to complain about someone else getting as excited about reading as she was.

She still wasn't thrilled about having to stay inside DM, but at least she'd have something to do when they fell asleep besides practice combat, and give DM some mostly fake but a little bit real grief over this plan the three of them had hatched. It all came down to trusting someone from Wolfram & Hart.

There was a knock at the door. She quickly put the book down and said "Hold on."

She looked around. Everything that needed to be packed, seemed to be packed. Oh! One last thing. She ripped up the note and shoved the pieces into DM's bag. Then she said, "Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

Daria came to again. Faith hadn't felt the need to write a note in response. She guessed she'd hear about it in her dreams. Picking up the bag, she left the hotel room.

X X X X X

Maybe not _that_ today, but a few other things, at least.

Lynette began to stand up from the bed. Her husband stopped her. She loved the man, but his sense of timing, at the moment, was a little off. Now wasn't the time to push things. Pulling out of his grasp, she started to get dressed.

"Where are you going, baby?" Will said, grinning. "No time left for a little more fun for an aging TV producer?"

She understood his urgency, but said, "It's time for me to start seeing these things through," she said. "Dedication, you know, all of that."

"Yeah, I know. You gotta go to Daria Morgendorffer."

"I don't like being away from you, either. But you know, we've been doing this to each other for the last few years. Nothing's really changed." She wasn't complaining; it worked for them.

":I know," he said. "But after hearing what went on at that gas station -- how those fanatics came after you and everyone -- you know why I'm upset." He still didn't sound happy, but at least he added, "Still, I'll help you in any way I can. You know that. It's just a surprise, that's all."

Changing the subject, she asked, "So how's that _Jill of the Forest_ story coming?" From his enthusiasm, it was apparently coming along well. As she straightened her clothes, she heard the details of the finale. It sounded pretty good, and she told him as much. He was pleased, if not surprised, by her compliments.

Leaving her husband again, after only an hour or so, was kind of sad. First his job, then hers, seemed to keep keeping them apart. Still, she had a job she had to do. She kissed him goodbye, and left.

X X X X X

Before they pulled it off, they'd actually have to leave the hotel.

When Buffy went downstairs to the lobby, Xander, Anya and Giles were already sitting there. She quickly wrote out the note, then turned to everyone else and said, "Okay. Who's ready to order up some Chinese?"

Yeses all around? Absolutely.

She asked Giles to make the order, getting half a dozen different things or so, but first, he commented on how this kind of Chinese food was to real Chinese food the way a firefly was to fire. That only left them, a couple dozen other problems, like what they were going to fo about the other weapons.

When she brought it up, Xander said, "Are you going to carry a 150 pound hammer through the metal detector? And what are we going to about the other weapons? All of those stakes and knives?"

"Olaf's Hammer is magical," Anya said. "It won't be detectible. The stakes are wood, sweetie. And we can just throw the flail over the metal detectors. Daria throws, you catch."

As Xander grinned sheepishly, Buffy thanked Anya for her recent spate of good suggestions. She deserved it. "Happy to help. You're not alone here," she said.

Looking at her, Buffy reflected that Anya really hadn't gotten a whole lot of praise recently. A word or two, at most -- and not even that, from. She reiterated the thanks firmly and told Anya they made sense. "Been known to do that from time to time," she said. "Don't want to die or be interrogated by airport security."

"Like I said, I appreciate it," Buffy said. "Anyway, that flail idea was a good one. Let me know if you any more like that. What is it, Dawn?"

"I'm here, I'm packed, and I'm hungry. You didn't even have to rush me out of the room or anything. I did it all on my own."

"Well, goody for you," Buffy said. "But if you're trying to find out a way to get on my good side so I'll tell you what that spell was, nice try, but don't bother. First, you know how good Will's spells are, and second, it's for your own good, and if you gave it some thought, you'd understand why. And if you _don't_ give it some thought, just remember that there's a hellgod and all of her minions out to get us right now." Then she stopped and smiled. "But hey, we're ordering Chinese, so I'm glad you're hungry."

"Chinese? I wasn't really hungry for Chinese."

"Yes, Dawn, Chinese. You like Chinese," Buffy said, with a tone that indicated that Chinese was what they were getting, and there was nothing she could do about it now.

No more complaints. Smart girl.

"Well, if my choice is that or starvation, I guess I'll take the starvation. Just don't get the idea that I won't be holding this against you in the future." Her tone was less than half serious, which was actually a good thing. Buffy thought that this meant they were loosening up a bit -- and a little optimism always helped. "Are you listening to me? You're not. Is it going to take a major-league smackdown for you to pay attention? Give me a clue."

"How -- sorry. Just glad you're up to giving me a hard time."

"Huh?" she said. "Oh. I get it. Ninety-five percent of the time the last few days we've been in so much trouble I've been too scared to do what sisters are supposed to do. I didn't notice, either. But now we're all back to putting each other in our places."

"I think you have it. Look. Do you trust me to get you through this?"

"If I trust anyone, it's you," she said, grinning slightly.

"Good to hear," she said. Then, changing the subject: "Hey. Tell me something."

"All you have to do is ask."

As they walked towards the staircase -- Buffy was sure she'd be followed, and she was -- she said, "You _do_ get why it's on a need to know basis, right? I mean, the spell isn't something you wouldn't understand --"

Then Buffy trailed her up the stairs. Before they got to the door of one of the rooms, she said, "Yeah. You're not going to tell me what it was about. I get why." Then Buffy asked her to go knock on Spike's door.

The future was brightening. Buffy went over and knocked on Willow's door, then opened it slightly -- and, slamming it, hoped like hell she never saw that again.

It was funny. Buffy's 'spider-sense,' if she had it trained, could sense vampires and demons a good distance away, but when it came to finding out when two of her friends were -- um -- doing _that_, all of her instincts deserted her. Poof. Gone.

"Sorry!" she yelled through the door. "Just wanted to let you know we ordered food and we're going to need to get ready to go soon. Didn't see anything. Not that it would have -- I'll shut up now." Right now, some of Daria's quick thinking would have been useful.

In case such an emergency hit again, she'd have to try to come up with a ready-made excuse. It even occurred to Buffy that maybe, just this once, she could blame someone else -- say it was Dawn's fault, or something. Naah. It would be too difficult, and anyway Spike would probably be right there with a convenient, and even true, alibi.

In any event, now that she knew that Willow and Tara were awake, it was time to go check in on Daria. She knocked on the door -- she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice -- and could have sworn she heard Faith's voice. Of course. Daria must have let her out to clue her in as to what was going on -- give her the details of the plan, and why they'd be forced to keep her under wraps unless an emergency hit.

Daria came out. A look of bemusement flashed across her face as she did so. She was carrying her suitcase, the flail, and a book -- the one she was reading with Faith.

Of course, Tara and Willow wouldn't be ready yet, and there was no one else around; Spike was already downstairs. Buffy needed to talk to him; he needed to start acting better towards Daria and Faith. He didn't have to like them, he just needed to work with them.

Buffy suspected that Spike might have more issues than that, just like Willow did; but at least Willow was willing to try to be reasonably civil, and wasn't, at the moment, telling Daria to get the hell away from her -- though Buffy suspected she wanted to.

Buffy waited to make sure everyone went back downstairs -- even Willow and Tara, and in their case it was hard to even look at them. Ah well. Time to get things in gear, she supposed, and was halfway down the stairs before everyone was even in their seats.


	22. The Weight of the World in Her Hands

Author's Note:

_She won't recover from her losses  
She's not chosen this path  
But she watches who it crosses  
Maybe move to the right  
Maybe move to the left  
So we can all see her pain she wears  
like a banner on her chest  
And we all say it's sad  
And we think it's a shame  
And she's called to our attention  
But we do not call her name  
The girl with the weight of the world in her hands_

_The Indigo Girls, The Girl with the Weight of the World in Her Hands_

Disclaimer: I didn't create the _Buffy_ characters or the _Daria _characters, just the original ones and the plot.

X X X X X

Once the Divine Glorificus had what she wanted, she killed the rest of the Knights quickly and went back upstairs. Any police left in the building were either hiding or dead. As long as they didn't get in her way, Glory didn't really care which.

Doc still had two of them handcuffed to chairs in the main room. Doc began to talk to her, but she said, "Hold on there a sec, buddy boy. I haven't eaten in a while."

Then, to the two officers, she said, "I'm sorry I had to do this." One of them started to say something, and Glory said, "Rude! Now didn't your mother ever teach you not to interrupt when other, more fabulous people than you are speaking? Anyway, I'm not sorry for you. I'm sorry for me. Because now I'm going to have to deal with a lot more of you getting on my way. Do you know how _hard_ it is to get blood out of these clothes? And plus, you humans always get so _touchy_ after someone kills a lot of you." Then she leaned in close and said, "Lucky you, though. You won't need to worry about it, because you won't know any of it's going on." Then she fed, putting one hand into each skull. When she was done, they began to babble.

"Divine one?" Doc asked.

"Yeah, what is it?" The feeding hadn't been as satisfying as it should have been. Probably _Ben's_ fault again. Well, she'd be rid of him soon enough.

"Since you have apparently come to the decision that our narrowing timeframe for you to return home is more important than keeping a low profile --"

"You got it. Not that I was all about the nicey-nice anyway, but you said I have what, maybe a couple of days to get this done?"

"By approximately midnight two days from now," Doc said. "That's when the gate has to be opened or you will be stuck here forever."

"So you see why there's no time for worrying about people's delicate feelings," Glory said. "Did you find out where the Slayer and her little friends have gotten to?"

"They went to visit a friend of theirs in Los Angeles," Doc said. "Fortunately, the Kern County Sheriff's is quite conscientious about making certain they can track down their witnesses. I have the address. Unfortunately, they left this morning, nearly twelve hours ago. If we want to catch up with them -- and stay ahead of the large numbers of police who will soon be tracking us down -- might I suggest we leave immediately?"

"Nothing keeping me here," Glory said. "Let's clear the minions the hell out of here and get this show on the road. Oh, and you might want to take care any of any witnesses. The idiots who live in this dimension might not ignore a trail of dead cops and prisoners, but there's no point in making it easy on them."

"I anticipated your request," Doc said. Of course he did. He actually had a brain in his head. "I have a spell already in place. One minute exactly after you and I leave the building, it will explode. This should leave few, if any, left alive who have seen us, and certainly none who know where we're going."

"Works for me, sweet cheeks," Glory said. "Now let's get the hell out of here before my Key hops a plane to Maui." She raised her voice. "Any minions who can hear me, _clear out_! You've got one minute to get out of here so you can keep serving me."

She and Doc then walked out of the police station. Half a dozen minions followed them out, plus at least one cop.

As they all piled into the van, the building exploded.

X X X X X

For Cameron Kim, it was no trouble getting to the airport; she hadn't even had to take a cab. When she got out of the car, she picked up the suitcase and looked around for Buffy Summers.

And there she was, not fifty feet away, getting out of a cab. Her friends were starting to gather around her. Cameron followed them inside, never losing sight of them as she, and they, checked in and began to wander over to the security gate.

To her amusement, Buffy openly carried the hammer straight through the metal detectors, and neither they nor the security guards even seemed to notice. (As they'd driven from the Kern Country Sheriff's Office to the Hyperion, Willow Rosenberg had allowed her into the spell hiding the two weapons. She'd never heard of the Tarnhelm effect before, but it definitely could be very useful for someone on a scouting mission. On her next mission -- assuming that neither an angry hellgod, her dozens of minions, a platoon of angry knights, the Slayer, nor any one of her friends happened to kill her first --- she'd have to see if the Wolfram & Hart sorcerers could make it available to her.

Even funnier was seeing Daria Morgendorffer throw the flail over the metal detector, and seeing no one notice. Buffy Summers had gone through first and was standing there, waiting. Daria, having positioned herself last in the line, took a step backwards, swung the flail once or twice like she was determining how hard to throw it, and let it fly.

It wasn't exactly a graceful arc -- flails weren't meant to be thrown, after all -- but it got the job done. Buffy deftly picked it out of the air before it hit the ground. One of the security guards noticed Daria's odd arm position, but the erstwhile Slayer then moved directly into a well-faked yawn. Or maybe not faked; she couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep this afternoon.

Cameron made it through the detector herself with no problems, then followed Buffy all the way to their boarding area. Buffy already knew, by this point, the form Cameron had taken, and so did Daria and Lynette Vaughn. No one else in the group seemed to notice anything unusual about her.

So far, that meant, so good. Though, unfortunately, she hadn't been able to overhear anything about whether Faith Lehane still existed, or the exact identity of the Key, but it was still early. She had plenty of time.

In the meantime, it was a good half hour or so before it would even be time for their plane to board, so there was time to kill. A little more judicious eavesdropping revealed nothing more than that the two witches' sex life was going wonderfully, but that the rest of their relationship was a bit on the rocky side. Terrific if she was running Wolfram & Hart's version of the _National Enquirer_, but otherwise not especially useful.

Beyond that, the Slayer and her friends were too smart to go talking about their situation where any fool or shapeshifter could hear them. Willow and Tara were in as serious relationship discussion, Spike was pacing irritably, and Daria was reading a book -- smart of her to have brought it with her on the trip -- and everyone else was either making small talk or trying to nap.

So, making sure to keep them in sight, she walked across the concourse to the airport bar. The bartended looked at her as she walked in -- she looked fairly young at the moment -- but he didn't say anything. In any event, Cameron didn't drink, so she wasn't there to potentially get the man in trouble with the State Liquor Board anyway. It wasn't a morals issue; she just didn't like the taste.

All she wanted to do was look at the TV, which at the moment was tuned to CNN. There seemed to be a big story about an explosion somewhere --

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. This changed things.

It was the Kern County Sheriff's Office.

She left the bar as quickly as she could, went back to the waiting area, and got Daria Morgendorffer's attention. "Yes?"

"Come back to the bar with me," she said. "There's something you need to look at."

Daria rose and followed her back to the bar. "This had better not be a _Sick, Sad World_ marathon," she said. When she saw what was on the television, all traces of humor left her voice. "Stay here," she said tightly. "See if they say anything about a certain hellgod, by name or description. You remember what she looks like, right?" Cameron said she did. "Good. I'm going to get the others."

A crowd of people was starting to gather -- a couple of dozen at least, just watching the TV. There was no mention of Glory, directly or indirectly. Soon enough Daria brought back Buffy, Giles, Dr. Vaughn, and Spike.

They did nothing but watch for five minutes. At least 75 people were dead in the explosion, police, prisoners, and support personnel. The number of survivors was unknown. It was being described as "the worst act of domestic terrorism since Oklahoma City." While the number of survivors wasn't known, they did mention one deputy sheriff who survived the explosion and who, it was said, could do nothing but babble incoherently.

Buffy, Giles and Spike exchanged sick looks at this one. At Dr. Vaughn's puzzled expression, Buffy made an "I'll explain later" gesture.

The first person to actually say anything was Spike, and he said possibly the worst thing he could have said under the circumstances.

"See now, _this_ is why we don't get the cops involved."

X X X X X

That Daria refrained from turning around and knocking Spike into the nearest wall was certainly a testament to either her complete state of shock or her iron self-control. Nothing else could have explained it.

Still. "Spike," Daria said forcefully, "The next word out of your mouth will be the last word out of your mouth."

Spike looked over at her, opened his mouth, shut it again, and walked away. Smart of him.

Daria couldn't watch any more. She turned and left the bar.

After a couple of steps, she felt a hand on her arm. She whirled. It was Buffy Summers. "Don't blame yourself. Don't feel guilty," Buffy began.

"I don't. I'm angry."

"What Spike said --"

"Not at Spike. Being angry at Spike would be like being angry at the weather. I'm angry at Glory. I'm angry at a universe where someone, anyone, would consider mass murder an acceptable way to gain information. Because you know that's what she was doing -- trying to find out where we were. I'm angry at the idiot Knights of Byzantium who caused this to happen in the first place, by trying to solve their _own_ problems by murder rather than by actually confronting them. And I'm angry at myself -- not for having come up with the idea, but for not having considered that this might happen. But I don't feel guilty. Not one bit. Because I didn't have a damn thing to do with it. And neither did you, and neither did any of us. _Glory_ is the one responsible."

"How did you know it was her?" Buffy said it as though she already knew.

"Because at this point, thinking that it's unrelated would require a much greater leap of faith than thinking that it was. Occam's Razor: Entities ought not be multiplied unnecessarily. The simplest explanation that fits all the available evidence is the one that's most likely." After a second, "So how do _you_ know?"

"I already thought so," Buffy said. "But as soon as the newscaster mentioned that babbling deputy, I was sure. That's shat happens to people after Glory feeds off of them. That's what would have happened to Tara."

"I'm glad it didn't," Daria said.

"Me too. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you don't feel guilty," Buffy said. "But tell me this. Knowing what you know now, if you could have made the same decision, would you?"

"There's no point in thinking like that," Daria said. "Because we did make that decision. And at the time, under the circumstances, with all the evidence we had, it was the right one. I'm certain of it." She looked back towards the bar. Cameron Kim had already left it, and was headed back to the departure area. Spike, of course, had gone as soon as Daria had threatened him, but now Xander and Willow were there. "Would you make the same decision?"

Buffy sighed, and said, "I would have." And that was what was bothering Buffy at the moment. Not Daria's anger or guilt, but her own lack of it.

"To save Dawn." Daria didn't phrase it as a question.

"To save Dawn. Exactly."

Suddenly, Daria realized something. "You came over here and told me not to feel guilty because you think _you_ should be the one feeling guilty -- because you're the leader."

"The buck stops here," Buffy said heavily.

"No. It doesn't. Because you're not my leader and you're not Dr. Vaughn's, either. You keep telling us that this isn't a democracy, and that your decisions aren't open to question. But I'm following your lead because you have a lot more experience at this. But if I disagree with you, even if it's a declared 'this is not a democracy' ruling, then I'm going to say something." She shook her head. "But that's not the important thing at the moment."

"Seems pretty important to me," Buffy murmured, apparently not offended. Good. Daria had no intention of offending her.

Daria said, "You're right. It's important. But it's not my main point. And that is: You don't have to bear the shared burden of guilt for everyone here. Because you're not responsible for everyone's decisions. You're only responsible for two people: You and Dawn."

"I've been doing this for so long," Buffy said. "It feels like more. It really does. That's one of the reasons my decisions aren't open for questions. Because then they're my decisions, not theirs. And they don't need to feel the guilt."

"They're going to feel the guilt anyway," Daria said. "It isn't your call to make. You're not the girl with the weight of the world in her hands."

"Yeah, I know," Buffy said ruefully. "There are two of us."

"Not even that. Spike stole the Winnebago. Willow threw up the shield. I rescued Tara. Cameron Kim thinned out the ranks of the Knights. You fought. Tara rescued me. You may be in charge, but this is a group operation. Don't let the guilt, or the guilt that you don't have any guilt, paralyze you now. Because I'm no leader. And these people wouldn't follow Faith out of a minefield."

"It's not going to paralyze me," Buffy said.

"Don't even allow it to slow you down," was Daria's response.

"I'll try. And to think, this morning I was feeling pretty optimistic."

"I wouldn't be optimistic, exactly," Daria said. "But provided the plane takes off before she gets here --" A horrid thought struck her. "When she gets here," Daria said.

"There'll be a bloodbath that'll make the one at the Kern County Sheriff's office seem like a playground fight," Buffy said.

"Not," Daria said, "If we make sure she knows where we're going."


	23. A Knack for the Obvious

Disclaimer: Buffy's owned by Joss Whedon; Daria's owned by Glenn Eichler; the plot and original characters are owned by me.

X X X X X

Buffy hadn't been expecting this kind of insight from someone who'd only known her a couple of days, but she had to admit that Daria Morgendorffer was right: One of the reasons she took leadership so forcefully was to protect everyone else.

It was a habit she suspected she'd have a hard time breaking.

She was also right that neither she nor Dr. Vaughn followed Buffy's lead because of long experience; Daria was doing so out of practicality, and Lynette Vaughn was there primarily because of Daria.

In any event, those were things that could be hashed out later. "How do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," Daria said. "We have to stay ahead of her, but we don't want to encourage her to kill people to find out where we are, either."

"What would have made her change like that, all of a sudden?" Buffy mused.

"Because her plan is falling apart. Maybe she has a time limit or something, and if she doesn't make it back to her home dimension by a certain time period, they get to keep her deposit. I don't know. The important thing is making it clear to her we're headed to St. Louis."

Buffy sighed. "That may mean we're going to have to find some way to keep going once we get there. Because she'll be coming to St. Louis on the next flight."

"We can worry about that when we get there," Daria said. "But you're right."

"This sucks, you know."

"Gee. And here I thought being chased by a homicidal lunatic who seems to be a combination of the Hulk and the Flash was a good thing. Guess I was wrong."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Daria's sarcasm, but didn't bother answering it. "So. Here's what we do next."

"Instruct me, fearless leader," Daria said, smiling faintly.

"The first thing we do is make sure no one else is feeling guilty about it -- and warn Spike against trying any more I told you sos. For one thing, he wasn't expecting this to happen any more than any of the rest of us were."

"So, far, I'm in agreement. Continue."

"Then we ask for suggestions for how to carry out your idea. And we hurry. Because we're due to start boarding within about fifteen minutes."

"Can I make a suggestion?" Buffy nodded. Daria's suggestions so far seemed to be worth listening to. "Let's ask Anya first. She thinks -- and if you ever tell anyone I used this term, I'll deny it, and then I'll kill you -- 'outside the box.' And that's what we need right now."

"You don't know, do you?" Buffy asked.

"There are many things I don't know. I won't know if this is one of them until you tell me what it is."

"There's a reason Anya sometimes doesn't seem to understand the rules. It's because she lived outside them for a thousand years."

"She's some kind of supernatural being herself?" Daria asked. Damn. She _was_ quick on the uptake.

"Yeah. Former vengeance demon. She specialized in punishing unfaithful men."

"She must have been busy."

"Do me a favor?" Buffy asked. "Don't ask her for the details. At least not while any of us are around to hear them. She goes on at length. And you might think it'd be kind of fun to hear how cheating scum got turned into frogs or had their penises fall off, but after the fifteenth time it gets a little tiresome."

"I won't," Daria said.

"Still," Buffy said, "That actually sounds like a good idea. Because I think we could use some outside the box thinking right about now."

"I will murder you in your sleep," Daria said. "I promise you."

"Many have tried," Buffy said. "All have failed."

"They weren't me."

"Speak of the demon," Buffy said. "There's Anya now." She was talking with Dr. Vaughn about something. The conversation seemed fairly intense.

Well, there was a lot about Anya to interest a psychiatrist.

X X X X X

Dr. Lynette Vaughn watched the news with horror. That the being chasing after them was capable of this --

It brought home to her exactly what kind of world she'd gotten herself tangled up in.

Too late to do anything about it now, even if she'd wanted to. And she didn't.

Once she finally turned away to walk back to the departure lounge, she noticed that everyone else except Anya had already left before her. "You go ahead if you have trouble dealing with it. I'll be fine. If they mention how it was Glorificus, I'll let you all know. Not that it wasn't. But if they figure it out, that's something we should know."

"Tell me something." They were recycling the same aerial shots of the Kern County Sheriff's office, burning.

"If I can, and if I know. They don't always tell me everything around here."

This didn't surprise Lynette; with Anya's penchant for blurting out whatever came into her head, Lynette wouldn't have told her everything either. "Earlier in the broadcast they mentioned that one of the surviving deputies was babbling incoherently. This elicited a reaction from Buffy, Giles, and Spike. Why?"

"Because that definitely proves it _was_ Glory. The crazy babbling people only show up when she's around. And they're not just crazy and babbling because they'd just had an encounter with a super powerful hellgod. Though that might do it, for some. Me, I've met a god or two. I wasn't impressed enough to go crazy. Though I did run."

"You've . . . _met_ a god?"

"Or two. Why does this surprise you?" Then she said. "Of course. No one bothered filling you in on my backstory. Why would they? After all, it's not like I'm important around here. I'm just the ex-demon they put up with because Xander likes me. No matter that I come up with good ideas like bringing along Olaf's Hammer and the DagonSphere. No. Well, here's the story: I used to be a demon. I punished unfaithful men for over a thousand years. Now, I'm human and mortal." She began to walk out of the bar.

One of the things that amazed Lynette was how little this amazed her. No, she wouldn't have guessed that Anya used to be a demon, but it explained her odd psychology. She didn't behave like other humans did because she hadn't been human very long. She caught up with Anya a few steps outside the entrance.

Like this outburst, of course, which was an emotional overreaction. "No, they didn't tell me about your backstory." Interesting choice of words, that, too. "But then, the only backstory I've gotten on most of you has come from either Angel or the person themselves. And, to be fair, it isn't as though any of you -- besides Buffy -- has made much of an effort to get to know us either."

She calmed down as quickly as she'd "True. But the consensus on you is still that maybe you can't be trusted." After a second, "Well, at least that's what Willow thinks. And Spike. And to some extent Xander. Me, I don't care, as long as Daria doesn't do what Faith did the one time. And Daria doesn't act all slutty and everything, and I bet she's not as good in bed as I am anyway."

Lynette had never been so bemused by a human being. She could have analyzed Anya for weeks, she suspected, and not come anywhere close to plumbing the depths of her psyche. Not that she saw the young woman that way. But it still would have been fascinating.

"I wouldn't know," Lynette said. "Buffy and Daria seem to want something."

"Probably with you," Anya said. "I'll go back to the news."

"No," Lynette said. "They seem to want you."

"Me?" Anya asked. "Why?"

"I believe the typical answer, is 'there's only one way to find out.'"

Anya looked at her. "Wildly inaccurate. There are many ways to find out. Most of them involve pulling out toenails or breaking digits, but boiling in oil is also a popular method --" She stopped. "And I'm betting you're not interested in the least in a discussion of how to torture people, are you?"

"Not at the moment," Lynette said. "Maybe later." Fascinating! Absolutely fascinating!

Then Buffy and Daria walked up and discussed what was on their minds. A sobering question. How did they minimize a long trail of bodies piling up after them?

"And you wanted to ask me first?" Anya said. "Why?"

"It was Daria's idea," Buffy said.

Daria said, "Yes. You have a unique way of thinking. I didn't realize until ten minutes ago that it was because you'd spent 1100 years as a demon, but that doesn't take it away. You have a knack for seeing the obvious. So. What are we missing?"

After a second, Anya asked "Did the people at the sheriff's office know where we were going?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Why?"

"Then she's there right now, probably."

"Quite possibly," Daria said.

"Then the answer's simple."

And it was.

X X X X X

"O radiant wonder of the multiverse," one of the divine Glorificus' minions said to her. "We appear to have found something."

They were in the middle of a hotel that hadn't been used as a hotel in years. Doc said that the Slayer and her friends had definitely been here up until recently, but had left hours ago -- long enough that he couldn't easily get a trail. "I'm sorry about that, divine one," he'd said. "But I'm saving most of my powers right now to help you open the portal back to your world." While Glory stalked around the lobby and Doc examined things, the minions were scurrying around the hotel like the rats they were, bringing back anything that remotely looked like evidence."

"If it's another dead rat," Glory said, "I swear I'll pound you through the floor." Glory was definitely in a bad mood, even for her. This was because Ben's damned _conscience_ was pushing its way into her own thinking, making her feel bad about all those people she'd killed. She'd already warned Doc to be ready to pounce on gentle Ben the second he showed up, because she was sure he was ready to run away.

Didn't the idiot realize that in stopping her from going home he was killing himself?

Of course, she'd always said she was going to kill him anyway, so maybe that wasn't the best argument.

Hell, maybe she could make a deal with him. He stops giving her a hard time, and maybe when Glory went home she'd let him live his own life, just like he wanted. She'd probably even do it. What the hell would she care? She wouldn't be here any more.

She told Doc to bring it up the next time her worse half came around. It wouldn't hurt.

"No, your divineness," the minion said. "It is a note. Written by the Slayer. To the person who lives here. His name is Angel."

"I don't care if his name is John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, nitwit," Glory said. "So what does the note _say_?"

"Oh. Yes. It says that the Slayer and her friends stayed here for a while, thanks him for letting them stay here, and says for him to be expecting a call sometime in the next couple of days. It doesn't say from who."

"I doubt it's the Publisher's Clearinghouse, idiot," Glory said. "Does it say where they're going?"

"No."

Glory yelled. The minion cringed, but she wasn't going to hit him. She was not in her happy place. And now that time was tight, that might mean having to kill more people to get her way. That would mean more people would know about her, which would mean more people trying to stop her. She was glad Doc had had the foresight to bring several of her dresses along, or she'd have actually had to _wear_ something with blood on it.

That wasn't going to happen now, thanks to her one follower who actually had a brain in his head.

"No, no," the minion stuttered "But it does say when they're leaving: 9:15 PM."

"What time is it?" Glory asked.

"Five after nine," Doc said. "And it doesn't matter how many people you kill, divine one. We will never be able to get there in time. And even your godly powers would be hard-pressed to stop a jet in the middle of takeoff."

"I bet I could knock the damn thing over," Glory said. "And I can make it there in five minutes."

"Yes, but do you know where it is? If you do, do you know the fastest way to get there? If you do, are you sure you can avoid every car and truck along the way? If you manage that, will you be able to figure out what their destination is? And if you do all that, Divine One, will you be able to hang on to that plane?"

"You sound like you want the jet to take off," Glory grumbled. Yeah, she was cranky. But she was a god, dammit. She had a right to be cranky.

"Not in the least," Doc said. "Just trying to stop you from wasting your energy on something likely to fail. We'll go to the airport and we'll find out where they're going. And we'll meet them there."

"I'm glad you're so confident," Glory said. "Because right now I'm actually starting to worry." The phone began to ring.

"Don't, divine one," Doc said. "That's also Ben talking through you." Of course it was.

"That doesn't mean I can make it stop on cue," Glory said, "And would someone get the frigging phone?"

"Try," Doc said. "You can't afford to weaken now."

"Mighty one?" the minion said.

"What is it?"

"Um, the phone. It's for you." Glory turned. "It's the Slayer."


	24. Inevitable

Author's Note: Some things are inevitable.

Disclaimer: The Buffy characters are owned by Joss Whedon, the Daria characters by Glenn Eichler, and the original ones by me.

X X X X X

They'd waited until they were actually on the plane to make the call. That gave Buffy about five minutes to finish up the call -- eventually, one of the stewardesses would come through the cabin and tell people to shut off their electronic equipment and cell phones. And they didn't have a whole lot of people to talk to. There was a family towards the front, a few business-types scattered throughout the middle of the plane, and a girl in a red jacket a row ahead of Daria. Maybe twenty people in all, not counting them. The plane looked about half full.

"What if she's not there?" She'd asked when Anya had made the suggestion.

"Then," Daria said, "We improvise. "Over the next five minutes we inform as many people in the airport as we can who we are and where we're going -- we'll say we got separated from a friend of ours and that she's to meet us in St. Louis. It's not ideal, but under the circumstances it's probably the best we can do."

"We're certainly not going to stay here and wait for her to show up," Buffy said. "There are a lot better places for a final showdown than the middle of an airport. And, most importantly, we have Dawn to think of."

And so that left Buffy making one of the strangest phone calls of her life. After about six rings -- just enough time for Buffy to start worrying that they were going to have to rely on Daria's plan B after all -- the phone was answered by one of Glory's minions.

Within thirty seconds Buffy was talking to the hellgod herself. "This had better not be someone's idea of a joke," she said.

"Right," Buffy said. "It's a joke being played on you by someone who knows the word Slayer and has a reasonably good idea where you are. That leaves me and whatever pasty-faced goon just answered the phone." She had to stop hanging around Daria. Sarcasm was infectious.

"Right. So it is you. What the hell do you want?"

"I understand you're looking for us."

"You got it, sweetcheeks," Glory said. "Give me my Key."

"Ain't gonna," Buffy said.

"So why did you call if you weren't going to surrender?"

"I just wanted to make sure you knew where we were." Okay. Here's where things started to get tricky.

Of course, 'Started to get tricky' was a relative turn of phrase, given Buffy's line of work.

"And why would I believe you?" the hellgod asked.

"Because of what you did this afternoon," Buffy said. She had to dance around the actual wording. She couldn't get too explicit about what Glory had done. Not unless she actually wanted to be dragged off the plane and questioned for several hours by grumpy security guards with a Constitutional right to no sense of humor.

Which, for the record, she didn't.

"So, you're feeling all sorry for the poor Knights of Byzantium?" Glory asked.

"Actually, I don't give a rat's ass about them." She was only slightly exaggerating. While Buffy didn't actually want them dead, she wasn't going to be wasting any time mourning the people who wanted to murder her sister, either. "But everyone else was kind of innocent.

Sounding exasperated, Glory said, "No such thing, chica. But if it bugs you so much, I'll tell you what. You don't want me killing a whole bunch of more people, just stay where you are and wait for me to come get my Key."

"Not going to happen."

"I can make the next two days very unpleasant, little girl," Glory said.

Holy crap. Probably without realizing it -- the way she seemed to do most things -- Glory had just given them a time limit.

All they had to do was stay ahead of her for two more days, and Dawn would be okay.

Still, if all Glory had was two days, it was no wonder she was willing to ramp up the violence.

"As opposed to the stroll through the rose garden it's been so far?" Buffy said.

"Ha. Look. This can be comfortable or uncomfortable. Your choice."

"And the people of the world could make it very uncomfortable for you as well," Buffy said. "Think about it."

"I can handle them."

"You can handle any of them," Buffy said. "But can you handle every single one of them working together?" Another exaggeration. If the authorities ever figured out exactly what kind of threat Glory was, they probably wouldn't wait too long before throwing everything they could at her short of tactical nuclear weapons.

And maybe even those, if they felt they had no other choice.

She was relying on Glory to connect the dots. And yes, that was as scary a thought as it sounded.

"So where are you going?" The hellgod finally asked.

"St. Louis."

"St. Louis?" Glory said, as though in complete disbelief that anyone could possibly ever want to go to St. Louis.

"You heard me the first time." The flight attendants were starting to make their way through the plane. "Come find us."

"I wi -- Oh, crap." Then something -- shifted, and an oddly familiar male voice began to speak. "Who is this?"

Buffy recognized the voice immediately, though how its owner had gotten to the Hyperion, she had no idea. "Ben?"

"Buffy? What were you -- get off me!"

Another male voice, unfamiliar this time, said, "Slayer. You are going to St. Louis?"

"Yeah," Buffy said, a bit confused. "What's Ben doing there?" Spike, sitting across the aisle from her, looked at her strangely. No one else seemed to notice.

"Never mind. See you in Missouri."

And then he hung up, so Buffy did as well, right before the flight attendant came along to ask her to hang it up. Then she passed Dr. Vaughn's phone back.

"Did I hear you mention Ben? Ben, that bloke who wanted to date you?" Spike asked.

"Yeah. All of a sudden he was there, sounding confused, and Glory wasn't."

"And this doesn't strike you as a mite suspicious?"

What, was she stupid? "Of course it does. How the hell did he get the phone away from her? And why didn't she grab it back?"

Spike sighed. "I'm not used to doin' the Hercule Poirot bit, but my little grey cells tell me we need to take a closer look at the facts here. You were chatting with the hellbitch and then maybe a second later you were talking with Ben. Glory's a god. She ain't the type to let someone else grab a phone from her. And I'm betting you didn't hear her bitching in the background either."

"No. Another guy grabbed the phone, didn't sound like a minion. But otherwise, nothing."

"Don't you get what this means?"

Buffy thought. "Ben's working with Glory?"

"No. Ben _is_ Glory."

"Huh?"

"Ben is Glory. There are two of 'em sharin' the same body."

For some reason, Buffy couldn't understand what Spike was saying. "So you think they're working together?"

Shaking his head, Spike said, "Just repeat what I'm saying. Ben is Glory."

"Ben is Glory."

"Good. Now then. What did you just say?"

"I have no idea."

Spike groaned.

X X X X X

Faith said, "Man, it's good to actually feel conscious. And yeah, I get the irony that right now the only time I can feel awake is when I'm asleep." Back in the apartment again, no echo in sight.

"I do apologize for that," Daria said."

"'scool. Really," Faith said. "You came up with the best plan you could at the time. And you gave me some time on the ride to the airport."

"Did you manage to get any more of _Watchmen_ read?"

"Skimmed the next part, the one about Rorschach's past. Didn't have time to go into it thoroughly. Willow damn near collapsed when I pulled out the book -- after they spent half the trip fillin' me in on what was goin' on. Turns out she's read it too." Faith smirked. "High and mighty Red read a comic. I got teasin' material for the next six months."

"Please, don't," Daria said. "Not that I care whether she likes me, but as powerful as she is I'd prefer not to have her actively loathing me. And while she's managed to rein in her feelings, they're definitely still there. I caught Tara as she started to fall down the Hyperion's lobby and she glared at me as though I was the reincarnation of Joseph Stalin. She clearly doesn't care for me all that much, even if she's gotten past believing that I'm a scam you dreamed up."

"You tryin' to ruin my fun, DM?"

"Not at all. Just requesting that you have that fun in ways not likely to get us murdered by an angry witch. It's something I'd prefer not to have happen. I guess I'm just funny that way."

"Do you always have to put everything so sarcastic?" Faith asked.

"No. Sometimes I'm sardonic. Occasionally I can be mordant, or even cynical. And every once in a while, I can manage whimsical. But don't spread it around. I have a reputation, you know."

"Funny." After a second, "So what happened after I shut myself down last time?"

"Well," Daria said. "We found out what a hellgod does in her spare time to amuse herself."

When Daria was done, Faith said, in a voice lacking all traces of humor, "Damn. That is one seriously twisted bitch we're fighting."

"Yes. She is. The good news -- if you can say there's any good news in a story about dozens of people being brutally murdered -- is that we now know that Glory has a time limit." She frowned. "Also, there's a possibility she has a connection to a doctor named Ben -- he's the one who treated Tara after she collapsed. Spike kept trying to explain it to everyone -- and got more and more frustrated, which would have been funny if the situation wasn't so serious -- but after twenty minutes of it I'm still not sure of the details."

"You sound pissed."

"I am. I'm proud of my brain. I know there are certain things I don't understand, and will likely never be able to understand. Quantum physics. _Finnegan's Wake_. The appeal of Ayn Rand. The nature of Ben's connection with Glory shouldn't be one of them."

"Sounds to me like there's something magical interfering."

"That was Tara's opinion. Spike's also. When I finally gave up and decided to take a nap, he was still trying to get through to everyone that -- that -- there. Glory is Ben. Remember that. Glory is Ben."

Faith shrugged. "Glory's Ben. Don't see what's so hard about it. But -- how? And does that mean that she's like us?"

"That who -- no. That Glory and Ben are like us? No. For one thing, they have different bodies. Hmm. I wonder why you can remember. We'll see if you still can the next time you wake up."

"Whenever that happens to be," Faith said.

"Glory is Ben," Daria said. "Glory is Ben. Maybe, through repetition, I'll be able to fix it in my short-term memory. Glory is Ben."

"In the meantime, wanna chat about _Watchmen_? Be easier if we had a copy of the book with us, especially the way chapter 5 was laid out all mirror-image like."

"It took me four readings to figure that out -- beyond the central image, where Ozymandias hits his assailant, I mean. I'm impressed."

"Well," Faith said. "I kinda decided to go back and look when I saw that the second time around and . . ."

And they talked about _Watchmen_ until it was time for Daria to wake up.

Which, unfortunately, happened sooner than they would have liked.

X X X X X

When Daria woke up, the first thing she noticed was the woman directly in front of her, who was staring at her in what looked like sheer absorption. "Hello," she said.

"If you find my face so interesting, take a picture," Daria said grumpily.

"I would, but I foolishly checked my camera through to Baltimore. So I've simply been sketching you instead." She held up a scratchpad with an excellent rendering of Daria's face done in pencil.

"Not bad," Daria said.

"Thanks. I was thinking about painting you as well."

"No thanks. I like the color I am now."

The woman smiled. "And here I was thinking a nice mauve would go so well with your clothes. I haven't yet decided whether to add the black polka dots."

Daria said, "I pay very little attention to my clothes. I operate on the principle that as long as people aren't laughing and pointing when I walk in the room, then I'm dressed well enough."

"Ah. The practical approach. I favor it, myself."

"So," Daria asked. "What is it about me you find so fascinating? Or do you simply go around randomly drawing pictures of people you see?"

"No," the woman said, sounding intrigued by the idea. "But that has its appeal. I can see it now: 'Strangers on a Plane.'

"If you're going to ask me to get involved in a labyrinthine murder plot, I'm going to have to decline in advance."

"Ah. You've seen Hitchcock."

"I'm an admirer, yes," Daria said.

"Sorry to disappoint you," the woman said, "But anyone I want murdered I'm perfectly capable of taking out myself."

"So," Daria said, "That is a good sketch. Are you a professional artist?"

"That's open to debate. I'm just coming back from what was supposed to be my first major showing outside my home area, and I found that the woman who set up the exhibit died, and the person who'd taken over the gallery had about as much artistic sense as a can of Spam. And much less artistic potential."

"Spam has artistic potential?"

"It's a wonderful sculpting medium. Though I wouldn't recommend keeping the sculpture longer than three days. They tend to draw flies." She paused.

"Useful, if you have a carnivorous plant to feed."

The woman's eyebrows rose. "That has potential, actually. Rotting meat surrounded by Venus flytraps. It's a commentary on -- well, it'll be a commentary on something to do with this sick, sad world we live in."

And Daria knew. "Was your exhibition in Sunnydale, California?"

"As a matter of fact, it was. Don't tell me you saw it."

"I did. And I was impressed. I especially liked the _Sick Sad World_ sculpture."

"Thank you," the woman said, apparently genuinely pleased. "So, stranger, what should I call you?"

"Tex."

"Tex?"

"The question seemed to warrant the answer," Daria said. "I'm Daria Morgendorffer."

"Jane Lane."

Some things are inevitable.


	25. A Man Who Had No Head

Author's note: I have a specific place in mind to represent Lawndale. Out of curiosity, can anyone figure it out?

Disclaimer: The Buffy characters are owned by Joss Whedon, the Daria characters by Glenn Eichler, and the original ones by me.

X X X X X

From her position in the plane Cameron Kim could easily see and hear Buffy Summers and her friends. By this point -- about halfway through the flight -- most of them were asleep, and the rest were apparently still trying to get their heads around something that only the vampire, for some reason, seemed capable of actually understanding -- and while he seemed fairly bright, Cameron never would have pegged him for the genius of the group.

Of course, she couldn't get it either -- no, wait. She could get it, but she was having trouble keeping it. She almost reached for her cell phone, then remembered A, she was on a plane and it would probably be a bad idea to send the thing plummeting towards the ground. And B, it might clue the Slayer's friends in to exactly who she was, and that was part of the point of her taking this form.

So, that left her eavesdropping, because she hadn't thought to bring a book or magazine along, and the in-flight magazine, like all in-flight magazines, was barely worth the paper it was printed on.

Right now, though, her eavesdropping wasn't getting her anything. Spike was talking in deadly serious tones with Willow and Tara about the nature of the spell that was keeping everyone from grasping the connection between Glorificus and this Ben. Rupert Giles was studying a book -- she couldn't see what it was, but it clearly wasn't Sue Grafton's latest -- and Daria Morgendorffer was talking with the girl sitting in front of her. (Cameron wondered whether anyone thought she was that girl. Not that Daria was giving away state secrets; so far, they mostly seemed to be talking about art.)

While she listened, she also thought about what she'd gotten herself into. This was a lot more public than she liked, and a good deal more violent than she'd expected. Wolfram & Hart had told her how tough Glorificus was, but there was a difference between reading about something and seeing it in horrifying action.

And the scary thing was, Glorificus wasn't even 'evil' by Wolfram & Hart standards. She was just horribly, horribly selfish. She wasn't trying to rule the world, or accumulate power, or make money, or see how many people she could kill. All she wanted to do was go home.

But from that selfishness came behavior as bad as the worst client Wolfram & Hart had -- and more terrifying, because she didn't even care. She was a force of nature masquerading as a human being.

And to think, yesterday morning she'd actually attacked this force of nature.

Cameron would have done it again; it was her job. But seeing what had happened to the Kern County Sheriff's Office put everything in perspective -- how much danger she'd been in, and how much she was still in.

Still, her only way out was to find out where the Key was, get instructions to kill them, and do so. And that was something she very much didn't want to do.

Well, she'd known the job was dangerous when she took it.

X X X X X

Lynette Vaughn woke up for a minute and saw Daria in intense conversation with the young woman sitting in front of her.

She seemed to actually be enjoying herself, too.

This was definitely good. No, Daria would never be the most social person on the planet, and Lynette wasn't going to try to change her. But she needed to connect with someone.

Maybe this would be it.

Smiling, she fell back asleep.

X X X X X

Glory came to, briefly, in the middle of the airport. "Quickly," she said. "What's going on?"

"It seems the Slayer was telling the truth," Doc said. "A little gentle questioning -- and I do mean gentle, the last thing we need right now is to give the authorities a reason to suspect us -- and I found a half dozen people willing to confirm that the Slayer was headed to St. Louis. I've arranged for us to take the next flight. You and I, of course, will be traveling first class."

"Of course," Glory said. "And little Benny?"

"He's not convinced," Doc said. "But he's not making a scene, either. I do have a bit of good news to report: Just as his conscience is bleeding over into you, your lack of conscience is starting to affect him. He's taking the offer seriously."

"Good. Will we be able to pull off the spell if we're not using my tower?" They'd spent some time building a 100-foot tall skeleton structure with a place at the top set aside for her to bleed the Key and open the portal back home."

"It will require some work, but yes. The most important thing is the timing of your return. The location is negotiable."

"Good. Keep up the good work. Oh, damn --"

X X X X X

"Good to meet you," Daria said, and meant it. "I hope you'll forgive the lack of a handshake. You're not a very physical person."

"No problems here," Jane said. "It would be kind of awkward anyway. My body isn't built to contort that way."

"And people make a case for intelligent design."

"Ha!" Jane said. "I only wish we were designed intelligently."

"And how would you improve us?"

After a second, Jane said. "Prehensile tails. And maybe an additional eye or two so I don't have to keep looking down at my work and then up and whatever I'm trying to draw or paint."

"Hmmm," Daria said. "I was thinking more of how we're clearly not well designed for standing upright, which is why people have so many back problems. And also, there's the little toe. We don't, in fact, need our little toe. Did you know that you could cut off your little toes and it wouldn't affect your ability to walk?"

"I imagine the trail of blood might slow you down a tad."

"After that," Daria said.

"Hmmm." After a second, Jane said, "My ideas are more fun."

"Quite possibly."

"So," Jane said. "Where are you and your friends headed to?"

"I don't know."

"Intriguing," Jane said. "So you were just walking around one day, saw the airport and decided, hey, that looks like fun."

"Not really. More like we're heading away from something. I could tell you what, but then --"

Jane interrupted. "No. Wait. Let me guess. But then you'd have to kill me."

"Actually, I was going to say, but then I'd have to tell you. See, I'm fairly certain you wouldn't believe me. And I'm enjoying our conversation and would rather not do anything to make it end prematurely."

"Oh, now you realize you're going to have to _have_ to tell me, right?"

"Not for anything," Daria said.

Still in a light-hearted tone, Jane said, "C'mon, amiga. Spill. You know you want to."

There was no lightness in Daria's tone when she replied. "Don't push this, Jane. Please. It's something I can't tell you. It's not my story to tell."

"Okay, fine, fine," Jane said. "Truth be told, I'm enjoying the conversation as well, and if the price of continuing is that is that I have to let this slide, that's fine." Then she quirked a smile. "I do reserve the right to grill you about it mercilessly later."

"I suppose I can live with that," Daria said. "So, assuming you're not going to turn my tactics back on me, where are you going?"

"Home."

"Which I would hazard to be somewhere near Baltimore." Jane looked puzzled. "That is, unless you're in the habit of giving your camera rides to places you're not planning on going.

Eyebrows raised in polite astonishment, Jane said, "Impressive memory."

"I also do card tricks."

"Really?"

"No."

Jane smiled briefly, then said, "Well, you're right; home is somewhere near Baltimore -- about 45 minutes away to the north, maybe ten minutes outside the outskirts of Baltimore County. You'd have never heard of it, though. It's called Lawndale." Life was playing a grand cosmic joke on her, apparently. Although it wasn't in the least bit funny. Apparently Daria was letting some of her emotions show on her face, because Jane said, "You've heard of the place? That's surprising. Unless you're a fan of all-year high school football."

"No," Daria said. All-year football? That was a concept. But not one to be delved into at the moment. "We were supposed to move up there four years ago," Daria said. "April 11,1997."

"That would have been towards the end of sophomore year," Jane said. "What happened?"

A natural, logical, and completely unavoidable question. "Do you watch the news?"

"Not often," Jane admitted. "Usually just enough to find out what the weather is, and whether Rio de Janeiro slid into the Atlantic Ocean last night. Otherwise, I find most of it too depressing. At least I can laugh at _Sick, Sad _World. And it's not like the world is all sunshine and roses anyway. Why?"

"It would have been a simpler explanation if you had," Daria said. "Because I was something of a hot topic of conversation for a few weeks."

"You?" The question could have come across as patronizing, but it didn't; Jane was just surprised. "Why?"

Daria sighed. "Because my entire family was murdered. Hold on; that's not it."

"It's hard to top that."

"You don't live my life," Daria said grimly. "Then, I developed dissociative identity disorder. You may have heard of it as multiple personalities. And my other personality was not a nice human being. Suffice it to say that she ended up in jail, serving a long sentence, for crimes she actually committed. And then Dr. Vaughn--" she pointed to sleeping psychiatrist -- "Brought me out again, which led to a chain of events that ultimately got me released from prison, cleared of all charges. And that led me here."

"I see what you're running away from, then," Jane said. "You're running away from everything."

"Just about."

"Damn, amiga. Sometimes there aren't words. Sorry to make you relive it."

"You didn't," Daria said. "It's a question I'm going to have to answer for the rest of my life -- either that, or people will already think they know all about me. Which they won't. Except, of course, by today's standards, where thirty-second sound bites are enough to give the viewer deep insights into one's character."

"Ah yes. Another one of the reasons I don't watch the news." After a second, she added, "There is something. If you're willing to tell me all that, then what could you possibly not be willing to tell me?" Daria recognized the question as rhetorical, but Jane, apparently worried Daria wouldn't see it that way, said, "No, no. This isn't another way for me to pry. Really. I don't do subtle very well. Passive-aggressive I'm an old master at, but subtle, not so much. I'm willing to push, but right now doesn't seem to be the time or place."

"I appreciate that." Jane seemed to be going through a lot of effort not to offend Daria. Daria suspected it was possible she didn't have a lot of people to talk to.

Well, honestly, once you got past Faith and Dr. Vaughn, neither did she. "I wish other people had that sense of tact," she went on.

"Who's saying tact? I didn't say tact. I'm perfectly capable of being completely tactless, if I have a good reason. But I like you. You're a twisted little cruller, Daria Morgendorffer. I like that in a woman."

"None of what I've said bothers you?"

"No," Jane said." You don't seem dangerous." After a pause. "Interesting, fascinating absolutely. Dangerous? If what you're saying is true, I don't have any reason to worry. And if it's not, well, I've always wanted to hang around with an interesting crazy person I wasn't related to."

"Your family isn't the picture of mental health?"

"Let me put it this way. My older brother Trent has been playing in a band for five years now -- and at the same songs, and at the same talent level. Don't get me wrong; it's his dream, and if he wants to do it for the rest of his life I'll back him up. But right now he seems content just to play occasional gigs in and around Lawndale. Also, he sleeps maybe 15 hours a day, and never uses two words when one will do. And of my siblings and parents, he's the sane one. The rest of my family? Look up 'flighty' in the dictionary. That's where you'll see them. I routinely don't see my parents for months at a time -- and this goes well back into my teenage years. My other siblings have their own problems. Whatever his are, Trent has stuck by me. He's the only one sometimes who seems to give a damn." Then she said, "Of course, compared to your last few years --"

Daria shook her head and said, "If you're about to give me some variant of "I wept because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet,' please don't."

"Not quite that schmaltzy," Jane said, "But that was the general idea."

Daria said, "I loathe that saying. If you have no shoes, meeting someone who doesn't have feet doesn't change your situation in the least. Yes. It stinks that they're footless. But, dammit, you still need shoes," She paused and said, "So while I do appreciate the sentiment, just because my situation may be worse than yours doesn't make yours any better."

"No. No it doesn't. Hmmm. I never thought of it that way. Not that I've ever liked the saying, but I've never put quite as much thought into why as you seem to have."

"I find the philosophy behind the statement odious. If taken literally, the only person in the world allowed to complain would be whoever the worst off person in the world was. That wouldn't be the person with no feet. He wept because he had no feet until he met a man who had no head. So the worst person off in the world could gripe. The rest of us would just have to sit there and take it no matter what happened. And if something genuinely bad happens to me, I reserve the right to complain. And you should be able to as well."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jane aid.

"And now, for something completely different."

"That is an ex-pilot?" At Daria's confusion, Jane said, "Never mind. I thought you were about to make a Monty Python reference. Please. Continue."

"I have a strange favor to ask. I need you to repeat something for me." By continual repetition in the dream state, even while she and Faith were discussing _Watchmen_, she'd gotten the point where if she concentrated she could remember.

She got around not being able to casually remember that Glory and Ben were -- were -- the same person by simply remembering that there was a connection. From there, she could focus and recall what the connection was.

"Oh wah tah nah Siam," Jane said.

"Not that. Just say the following three words. Glory is Ben."

Seeming puzzled, Jane shrugged and said, "Glory is Ben."


	26. The Parakeet

Disclaimer: Nope. 'tain't mine, except the plot and the original characters.

X X X X X

"I am curious," Jane said, "Why you wanted me to say that."

"It's another one of the things I can't tell you," Daria said. "Though I will go so far as to say that Glory and Ben are two of the reasons we're running?"

"A transvestite hit man?" Jane asked. "No, don't tell me. I think I'd be disappointed."

'I can't, but you wouldn't," Daria said.

"I have a confession to make," Jane said.

"Let me guess: You're a transvestite hit man."

"Nope."

"A transvestite hit woman?"

"Hey," Jane said, "Don't knock it if you haven't tried it."

"You've tried it?" Daria asked.

"No. But then, I don't knock it either." After a second, "Anyway, my confession."

"Well, see, now that I know you're not a transvestite hit man, anything you say now is bound to disappoint me."

"My confession is, that's what got me interested in you in the first place -- seeing that Billy Idol wannabe back there try to convince you that whoever this Glory is was the same person as whoever this Ben is, and having a hard time doing it. I'm guessing that they look nothing alike."

"There's a vague resemblance. They're both human. At least, they both _look_ human." After a second, Daria added. "And something about my reaction intrigued you?"

"You seemed to be trying to get your head around the concept," Jane said. "Everyone else simply seemed to be trying to able to understand it. Except for that girl back there, who said, "That's nice," and fell back asleep.

"That would be Anya. She doesn't think like you and I do."

"I would venture to say few people do."

Smiling faintly, Daria said, "True. But Anya definitely has a unique way of thinking. As for the rest of them, it's not fair to sell them short." She couldn't give Jane the real reason. "It's a lot to try to understand."

"And now, you seem to have figured out a way to do it."

"Two, actually," Jane gave her a "please continue" gesture. "The first was while I was dreaming. I have exceptionally lucid dreams. While talking with -- part of me --" Daria broke off, slightly worried.

"Don't mind me," Jane said. "My mind didn't boggle at learning you'd had multiple personality disorder, it's not going to start now. Please. Keep going."

"While talking with a small part of myself -- I call her the echo --" a small lie, but of course Daria couldn't risk Cameron Kim hearing the truth -- "I found out that she could say the same phrase." Damn. What was it, again?

"Glory is Ben," Jane helpfully supplied. "Keep going. This is fascinating stuff."

"When I woke up, after talking with you for a while it occurred to me that maybe our difficulty in comprehension might be negated by asking someone who had no reference for who either Ben or Glory were to repeat the phrase, maybe that would circumvent the problem."

"So that's all I am to you, Morgendorffer?" Jane asked. "Your trained parakeet?" The tone in the voice was one of gentle teasing, so clearly she wasn't offended.

"Jane want a cracker. Come on, you can do it." Then she said, "I'm glad I was able to give you an answer to your problems, but --" she looked at her watch -- "within about 35 minutes you and I are going to be headed in separate directions."

This was hard for Daria. "Um," she said. "I was kind of hoping maybe this wouldn't be the last time we talked."

"Do you want me to be your fwiend?" Jane said. Then, noticing Daria's slightly hurt expression, said, "Sorry, amiga. Force of habit. It's been so long since I've been able to talk with someone who seems to share my rather odd worldview that I forget, sometimes, the rules of basic social interaction." Then, speaking seriously and without a trace of mockery in her voice, she said, "Daria Morgendorffer, I would be delighted to continue this conversation, or any other conversation with you, at a time and place of your choosing."

"Any other conversation?" Daria asked. "Good. I choose the one between Stalin, Truman, and Churchill. And this time let's not concede Eastern Europe so readily."

"As long as I don't have to be the one with the mustache," Jane said.

"That would be Stalin," Jane said. "And no, you don't want to be him. Unless you have aspirations to being a murderous dictator."

"No interest in killing people. But the dictator part sounds cool," Jane admitted.

"True. But it also sounds like too much work."

X X X X X

When Buffy woke up, she wasn't sure where she was for a second.

Then she remembered: Plane to St. Louis. Homicidal hellgod one flight behind them. They were running away to protect Dawn.

And for a brief second, she wished she was still asleep.

Then the professionalism kicked in and she knew that, no, dammit, it was better that she was awake.

Damn professionalism. When this was done she was going to have to take it into the backyard and have a long talk with it.

She looked around to see where everyone was. Giles was reading a book, Spike and Willow were talking about something, and Daria was talking with the girl in front of her.

She caught Cameron Kim's eye. The shapeshifter was clearly listening in to everyone's conversation, but Buffy would have been willing to bet no one had said anything incriminating. She nodded slightly, and the shapeshifter nodded back and smiled.

Of course she wouldn't have fallen asleep. It would have been unprofessional.

Everyone else was sacked out. Looking down at her watch, Buffy noticed that it was about 25 minutes from their scheduled arrival time. Any minute now someone would tell them to put their tray tables up and get ready to land.

Unbuckling her seat belt, Buffy stood up and looked around. Everyone's table was actually already up except fro Giles', and he was awake to hear the announcement. Better to let everyone else sleep. They'd likely have a long night ahead of them.

Initially, their plan was to stay in St. Louis, but now with Glory likely a flight behind -- and there _was_ one more flight out of LAX to St. Louis tonight, they'd checked before they left, leaving at 11:07 PM local time. Assuming they were on schedule, they'd be getting into St. Louis at 2:45 AM local time, collecting their luggage, and, with Dr. Vaughn's indulgence, picking whatever the hell flight left next as long as it wasn't headed back to Los Angeles and getting on it.

If Glory was out of the picture for the next several hours, then there likely wouldn't be any massacres when they got to St. Louis and didn't find Buffy there.

There were two ways to work this: Make sure they left an easily visible trail, or make sure no one knew where the hell they were going, so that it didn't matter how many people Glory killed, it wouldn't get them any closer to where Buffy was.

They hadn't had the time to work things that way in LA. Since Glory and her merry band of cutthroats had made it to the Hyperion, she would have known they were getting the hell out of Dodge.

You'd think that would have been a good time to simply fade into the woodwork, except by the time they figured all of this out their luggage was on the airplane already. That would have left them confronting Glory with nothing more than Olaf's Hammer, Faith's flail -- both still inconspicuous, either that or they were flying with the most blasé flight attendant in the world -- and Willow's spell components. And, of course, it would have actually, you know, meant confronting Glory. And Buffy's reasoning was this: If they stayed ahead of her until her deadline passed, they'd win.

Of course, what happened to Glory when that deadline passed was still an open issue. An angry hellgod with an axe to grind and nothing to lose might not be a whole hell of a lot of improvement.

On the other hand, maybe once she lost she'd give up.

And maybe the Justice League would swoop in and take care of things. Buffy wasn't counting on that either.

She walked over to check on Daria, and found that she and the girl in front of her were talking about a TV show called _Sick, Sad World_. Buffy'd never heard of it, herself. Of course, her TV-watching hours were typically taken up with school and vampire slaying.

Damn vampires ruining her TV fun.

"Daria," Buffy said.

"Yes?"

"So, who's your new friend?"

Daria nodded slightly. "Buffy Summers, meet Jane Lane. Jane, Buffy." A smile and a nod apparently took the place of a handshake.

Jane said, "Greetings and felicitations. Glory is Ben."

Yes. Yes she was. Then Buffy realized something and turned to Daria with a sick look on her face. "You didn't --"

"No. I didn't. But Jane can say the words with no problem. She just has no idea what they mean."

"Yes," Jane said wryly. "Because I don't actually understand the English language. I'm a parakeet. Chirp. Chirp." Then, a bit more seriously, she said, "But if you're worried about whether yon Daria has been spilling state secrets, don't be. She wouldn't tell me who either of these people were." Then she smiled. "But if I'd had my thumbscrews, things would have been different."

"I think you're only allowed to bring thumbscrews on a plane if you put them in your checked luggage," Buffy said. "So if Daria didn't tell you anything --"

"Again, it's because I understand the English language. My guess is that Ben/Glory is a transvestite of some kind." Buffy choked back a laugh at that one. "The only other thing she's revealed is that you're really, really trying to avoid -- him? Her?"

"Her is fine," Buffy said. "We're mostly avoiding Glory," Still, Daria shouldn't have even said that much."

"Okay. Her. Well, that's the only thing I know, and like I've said, she hasn't told me anything else despite my best efforts. So you don't need to worry about me ratting you out or going to the media." A beat, then, "Possibly _Sick, Sad World_."

"I don't think we're quite strange enough for that," Daria said.

"Your friends? Maybe not. You? You're plenty strange. And that's not even counting the whole dual personality issue."

Daria seemed to trust this girl with an awful lot, but the dual personality thing was her secret to give -- Buffy presumed she was being careful so close to Cameron Kim. In any event, there wasn't much Buffy could do at this point. If Daria _had_ said anything more -- which Buffy doubted, as she seemed to get this whole secret identity thing -- then their only options were trust her, kill her, or knock her out and stuff her in a broom closet somewhere. Buffy was perfectly willing to do the third option if she had to, but she didn't have any reason to here, so far. Jane's jokes about talking to the media seemed to be just that -- jokes.

So she just made a mental note to hash things out with Daria later and said to her, "You're clear about what we're doing at the airport, right?'

"Scavenger hunt. First one to find a sober pilot wins." At Buffy's glare, she said, "Collect the luggage, find the next convenient flight, and get on it. Provided it's not headed back to California."

"That could be the flight to Baltimore." Jane said. "Good luck. It leaves an hour and a half after we touch down."

"Will that give us enough time?" Buffy asked.

"Glory's flight would have left two hours after ours did," Daria said, "And she would have had an hour layover in Denver. We should have plenty of time. She's at least three hours behind us. Even if she gets the most favorable tailwind possible it's only likely to shave a half hour off of her time. That should give us ample time to maneuver through the airport's surly late-night bureaucracy. Should, of course, being the key word."

"Right now, that's the best plan we've got," Buffy said. "Okay. I'll make sure everyone's awake and ready to hustle down and get the luggage while you and Dr. Vaughn get the tickets."

"We shouldn't have any problems boarding the plane," Daria said. "There aren't likely to be a lot of standby passengers waiting to grab our seats."

"Unless there's a vampire convention in time."

"And how likely is that?" Daria said quickly, covering nicely for Buffy's tired bewilderment. She was starting to see how Daria's quick thinking alone could keep her in fights.

Speaking of vampires, though -- Buffy needed to talk with Spike for a second. "Nice to meet you, Jane. If you'll excuse me --"

"Oh, please," Jane said. "Think nothing of it. Any acquaintance of Daria's is an acquaintance of mine."

When she walked back to see Spike, Buffy had the distinct feeling that she'd just survived a test of some kind. Weird. "Spike?"

Spike broke off a quiet conversation he was having with Willow and said, "Yeah?"

"I realize this sudden change in plans isn't going to do you any good --"

"No, it ain't," the vampire said. "But when we started out we hardly expected her blondeness to--" and he dropped his voice -- "go on such a prolonged killin' spree. I'm already along for the ride. I'll see it through. "After a pause, he added, "But if whenever we get wherever we're getting to it turns out we're in for a long ride across the tarmac, I make no guarantees."

"We'll try to protect you from the big bad ball of fire," Buffy said.

"Better had," Spike muttered.

Right then, the captain announced that they were beginning their descent and politely asked everyone to get in their seats. Buffy hustled around and woke everyone up --- Anya cursed her in a language she was fairly sure had been dead for several centuries -- and got back in her seat before a flight attendant who was far perkier than anyone who wasn't undead had a right to be at that hour came along and told her to sit down herself.

From there, they got into the airport -- no one still noticed Olaf's Hammer or Faith's flail. For a brief second Buffy was tempted to start making holes in the wall to see if anyone noticed, then realized exactly how tired she was to even be considering it.

Jane invited herself along, either oblivious to the suspicious stares of everyone else, or more likely, simply not caring about them, and talked with Daria. The two of them and Dr. Vaughn peeled off when it came time for them to get the tickets. Everyone else went to get the luggage.

They got their luggage with no problems -- Buffy doing a lot of the carrying despite being the one carrying the freaking big hammer, Daria and Dr. Vaughn picked up the tickets, and everything thing went through almost without a single problem.

Almost, of course, being the key word.


	27. Nibbled to Death by Ducks

Author's note: I'm making up the layout of the St. Louis airport. Any native St. Louisans, forgive me.

Disclaimer: Buffy _et al_ are owned by Joss Whedon. Daria and Jane were created by Glenn Eichler. Everyone else is mine.

X X X X X

Giles later said there was a British description for what happened to them in their two or so hours in the St. Louis airport:

He called it being "nibbled to death by ducks."

The good news was that Glory had nothing to do, directly, with the "almost" at the St. Louis airport. Of course, with good news like that, the bad news could be anything short of someone exploding a tactical nuclear weapon.

They didn't have to deal with that, or with another massed attack.

Still, it was frustrating and tiring as hell.

The first duck struck when they were getting the luggage. One of their fellow passengers bent down to get his suitcase, then moved over and set it down.

Buffy'd picked her bag off the carousel, the hammer at her feet and everyone else was in the middle of getting theirs. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the man bending over.

Then, suddenly, stand up with something in his hand and lunge forward. "Dawn!" Buffy said, then kicked the hammer forward with her foot. It slid right into the man's path and he tripped over it. He lost his grip on the knife he'd been holding and it ended up landing on Xander's suitcase. Xander quickly picked it up.

Buffy said loudly, "Oh! Are you okay?" and moved over towards the man as almost everyone else grabbed their luggage and hurried away. Xander and Spike stayed. As she bent down, she said quietly, grabbing the man's hand, "Okay, you're going to tell me why you did that, and you're going to tell me now." The man said nothing. "Do you work for Glory?"

"I would never befoul myself by working for the beast," the man said.

"Bleedin' hell," Spike said. "He's a Knight of Byzantium."

"You did not get all of us, Slayer," he said. "And there are others throughout the country and the world who will stop at nothing --"

"Well, you're not going to be one of them," Buffy said, and bent the man's hand backwards until he cried out in pain. "Watch out," Buffy said a bit loudly. "Next time you might break it."

Xander came over and stepped on the Knight's other hand. "Or maybe that one," he said quietly. "And by the way, we'll be keeping the knife."

"There are more of us," the Knight said as he awkwardly stood up. Then, also more quietly, "The Key will never leave the airport alive."

"And neither will you if you don't shut up and shuffle the hell out of here," Spike said. The Knight clumsily picked up his suitcase and walked off. Buffy got the Hammer and she and Spike got the luggage that everyone else had left behind when they left -- only Willow and Tara had gotten theirs.

"Well, this is fucking terrific," Spike grumbled as they walked to the escalator. "We'll be dodging them for the next two hours. That sounds like just oodles of fun."

"Throw in some stomach flu and it'll be the best road trip ever," Xander said.

"Better than the one you took after high school?"

"No power on this earth, Buff." Then, more seriously, "One thing, though. Daria's going to have to lose her new friend -- we don't want to keep her in the line of fire if we can avoid it. And how do we know it's not Cameron Kim, anyway?"

"Because I know who Cameron Kim is, remember?" Buffy said. "It's not her."

"Should be simple enough to figure out," Spike said. "Check the plane when we leave. It's gotta be one of the same people who was on the flight from LA to St. Louis."

"She's a shapeshifter, Spike," Buffy said.

"Right. Damn."

When they got to the main concourse, everyone else was gathered around Jane and Daria. She moved forward to listen in. "Buffy," Jane said. "You missed the excitement."

"What excitement?" Buffy said, trying to hide her worry.

Daria said, "A crazy person rushed up to Jane and pushed her to the ground. Before he could try anything else, Dr. Vaughn stepped in front of him -- and then airport security rushed up and took the man away."

"As he was being dragged off," Jane said. "The man said, 'Why aren't you an animal?' I wonder what was going through his head."

"You weren't scared?" Buffy said, now worried that the Knight downstairs was telling the truth.

"Of a crazy babbling person?" Jane asked with amused contempt. "I've run across more than a few of those. It's not like he had a knife or a gun, or something."

"Speaking of which," Xander said quietly, "I tossed the one we confiscated into the trash. I figured we didn't need any more souvenirs." Not ideal, but she doubted the Knights would be rummaging through the trash to recover it.

"Well, I'm happy you're okay," Buffy said. "Daria? Could we talk?"

Recognizing Buffy's tone of voice as one strongly suggesting Daria get over there immediately, she walked over and said, "Yes?"

"Did anyone tell you what happened downstairs?"

"No. There wasn't time." So Buffy told her about the Knight with the knife. "Okay," she said when Buffy was done. "It seems to me that there are two priorities."

"The first one's obvious," Buffy said. "Dawn?"

"Yeah?" she left the group and came over.

"You're vulnerable. As of now, you take no risks."

To her credit, she didn't complain about Buffy being overprotective; she just said, "Under the circumstances, I understand." Then, after a second, "I wish there was more I could do."

"Unfortunately, right now, there isn't," Buffy said. "Circumstances being what they are."

"Yeah. I'm just the Slayer's little sister; I can't really do anything on my own. I can't even really fight, can I?"

"Not if you want to stay the loveable pain my ass that you so often are," Buffy said.

"The second thing we need to do," Buffy said to Daria, "Is get Jane away from us. At least until we get on the plane."

Daria disagreed. "They've already come after her. They apparently think she's Cameron Kim." Buffy swore to herself internally. She'd missed that, but it made sense. "Isolating her at this point seems like a good way to get her killed."

True. "Our other option is to keep making excuses about why people are attacking us," Buffy said.

"You want to know what I think?" an eager voice chirped.

"Almost never," Buffy said. "Now shoo."

"Big sisters are mean," she said grumpily as she walked back to the group.

"That's right," Buffy called after her. "It's in the job description."

Daria said, "She might have actually had some useful advice." She said it in a slightly emotional tone --

Well, of course. Buffy could still tease her sister. Daria's had been murdered. If Dawn died, Buffy didn't know what she'd do.

But that's why they were on this road trip. To keep Dawn safe.

"Possibly," Buffy said. "But right now isn't the time for her to be giving it. Anyway, right now, the more I tease her, the more it seems to everyone that everything's normal -- that we're just two sisters on an outing, instead of who and what we really are."

"I believe I get the picture," Daria said. "As for Jane. I must not be understanding you. Because it sounds like you're saying that it might be easier to throw her into the line of fire than to keep her safe. And if the choice is between making excuse, or even telling her who we are -- not a choice I'm going to make on my own unless I have no alternative; I realize this isn't just my secret -- or letting her go off on her own to possibly get killed because it's more convenient for us, I need you to understand that we will be going for option two over my dead body."

Daria's obvious irritation grew the longer she talked. "Relax," she said. "I wasn't suggesting we do any such thing. And I'm sorry it sounded like I did."

Daria said, "Sorry. You're right. We're all on edge here at the moment. And knowing that there are Knights of Byzantium lurking around every corner isn't going to make the situation any better."

"No, it isn't," Buffy said. "We're all going to have to try to stick together for as long as it takes. No one even goes to the bathroom by themselves."

"That should prove amusing on the plane," Daria said. "But I'm inclined to agree with you. However. There's one place where we can't stick together no matter how much we want to."

Buffy knew what it was immediately. "The metal detector."

"Exactly. Because we had to pick up and subsequently re-check our luggage, that means we have to pass through again. We should do the same thing we did in Los Angeles, only be even more wary. You go through first; I go through last. But none of that precludes an attack when we're distracted -- say, when we're trying to get this thing --"she held up Faith's flail -- "Across."

Much as she hated to admit it, Buffy could have used Faith right about now. Daria thought quickly and was a competent fighter but if they were going to be subjected to repeated sneak attacks she wasn't quite in her element.

Unfortunately, there was no way to make that happen without letting Cameron Kim know that Faith was still around. Faith might have been 'the world's best actress,' but you could pick out her accent from two blocks away. "Then we need to tell everyone to be careful. A little paranoia wouldn't hurt, here."

"A little wouldn't. A lot might. We don't want to give airport security any excuse for thinking of us as a bunch of dangerous lunatics." She smiled faintly. "Never mind that they'd be right."

Different people, different defense mechanisms. "Good point. Not that we're a bunch of dangerous lunatics. But that we need to be extra careful there. We'll play it by ear."

They managed to check their luggage with no problems, but the next attack came well before they got to the gate. Daria had taken Jane and moved away separately, supposedly so they could talk privately, but actually to keep her safe.

This time the Knight, looking like a hurried and tired businessman -- who knows, maybe he _was_ a hurried but tired businessman in his spare time, Buffy doubted the Knights of Byzantium gig was a full time job -- had come rushing up behind them as they walked down the concourse. The man pretended to stumble and fell into the group.

Dr. Vaughn caught his left arm with a well-done chop. Something shiny clattered to the terminal floor. While Buffy grabbed the man's on, the doctor picked it up.

It was a hypodermic needle. Everyone stopped. Buffy gave an involuntary shudder. If he'd managed to inject it -- "He didn't get anyone, did he?" He hadn't gotten anywhere near his most obvious target, who was being kept in the middle, but still.

Everyone said no. "Thank goodness."

In the meantime, with everyone else crowding around, Buffy said, "What is this?" The Knight didn't answer, but then Buffy hadn't expected him to. "Okay, then," she said. "How about I jab you with it to find out?"

"It's ricin," the man said.

"Good Lord," Giles said, gasping. Dr. Vaughn also swore. "Buffy, hand me that very carefully. Now. Everyone else stand clear." He took it from Buffy and held it like it was an angry rattlesnake. "Willow. With me. Now." Willow followed him immediately. Buffy had never heard Giles so serious.

She didn't know what ricin was, but from Giles' reaction she was fairly sure she had the general idea. Angrily, she turned around and shoved the man roughly to the ground, saying, "Get your hands off me, you damned freak."

The man scrambled to his feet and said, "The Key won't be able to survive all of us."

Buffy stepped in close to the man. "I'll put it this way. If The Key doesn't survive, neither do any of you."

"It's a risk we're prepared to take."

"Well, then, let me tell you about another one you're taking," Buffy said. "Glorificus is on the flight behind us coming in from LA. She's due in here in -- how long?'

"One hour and twenty-five minutes," Tara said.

"So if you and yours _delay_ us from getting on our plane, then you'll be handing the Key directly to Glory. And I'm thinking you don't want to do that."

"We don't want to delay you," the man said. "Just kill it."

"I'm just warning you not to get too public," Buffy said.

"Fair warning," the man said, and walked away.

Of course, the Knights were already trying not to make things too public. For one thing, they weren't tramping about the airport in full armor.

Still.

Giles and Willow came back. "Giles just had me completely vaporize the thing," Willow said.

"I had no choice," Giles said. "We could hardly take it to the authorities, and I wasn't going to leave it around for someone else to find. There was much too high a danger of someone killing themselves or someone else."

"It was the right thing to do," Dr. Vaughn said angrily. "These Knights don't believe in half measures, do they?"

"What _is _ricin?" Buffy asked.

"Ricin is probably the deadliest poison easily obtainable by any fool on the street," Giles said. "It's made from castor beans and there is, I believe, no known cure. Death is slow and painful." He looked at Dr. Vaughn. "Thank goodness you noticed."

"I may not use them," the psychiatrist said. "But I recognize them when I see them. Anyone carrying a hypodermic needle openly isn't up to any good."

Daria and Jane came back over. "It looks like we missed some more excitement," Jane said.

"Someone grabbed my ass," Buffy said. "I shoved him away."

"Admirable restraint," Jane said.

As they walked towards the metal detectors, Buffy pulled Daria back and told her what really happened. "Remember what I said about not needing to be a lot paranoid?"

"Yes."

"I take it back."


	28. I'm Rubber and You're Glue

Author's Note: Still running the gauntlet.

And yes: I always thought both Glory and the Knights could be a lot more frightening than they were actually shown to be. The Knights were presumably a worldwide operation, and Glorificus is a monomaniacal amoral deity. (Now try saying that five times fast.)

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim stuck as close to Buffy Summers and her friends as she could get away with without arousing suspicion.

So far, they'd been attacked three times, though she'd only seen two of them. Unfortunately, circumstances being what they were, she'd been completely unable to intervene. If she had to blow her cover, she would; but she'd only do that under the most extreme conditions.

So far, everyone had survived. No one was dead, or even hurt. Cameron would have expected the Knights to be going for the Key, but so far one of the attacks had been aimed at Daria's new friend Jane, and the other two at the group in general.

And damn the Knights of Byzantium for thinking that this girl Jane was her. Some Wolfram & Hart operatives -- okay, _most_ Wolfram & Hart operatives -- would have gleefully thrown the girl into the line of fire, but Cameron wasn't like that. She would put herself into harm's way if she had to, but no one else. Not unless ordered.

Which meant it wasn't a bad idea to make sure this Jane tagged along. The problem for Cameron was that now everyone was going to be even more careful about what they said. At least while Jane was in the area.

Almost, from the way Buffy Summers had been acting, she thought the Key was Dawn Summers. It would explain an awful lot. But it could also be simple sisterly overprotectiveness. And she wasn't going to jump to any conclusions.

Jump? Hell. She wasn't going to reach any conclusions unless they were shoved in her face.

Her orders were to observe, not to deduce. She rarely parsed things so finely, but she did _not_want to hurt these people.

Speaking of observing, right now what she was observing was a virtual duplication of when everyone had gone through the metal detectors at LAX, only now everyone was a good deal more on edge -- and the vampire was holding the flail, because Daria was devoting her attention to making sure Jane wasn't hurt.

Cameron herself was already through the security area, and inconspicuous enough that no one who didn't already know who she was would have gotten suspicious. So were Buffy, Willow Rosenberg, and Tara MacLay.

So far, no one had tried anything. In fact, except for the security guards, no one else was even around, and none of them had acted in any remotely suspect fashion --

Wait. That guy coming out of the men's room. The one with the beard. Didn't he look just a little too casually uninterested in what was going on?

She quietly brought it to Buffy's attention, who thanked her and watched the man. She also told Willow, and Willow did the same.

Cameron's instincts were dead on target. The man looked around and then, doing his best not to be noticed, pulled a thin white rod out of his pocket and pointed it in the Slayer's general direction.

"I'm rubber," Willow said, "And you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you."

Cameron had never heard a spell phrased that way -- but it worked. The man muttered a word, presumably magical. A barely visible reddish ray -- so faint that you wouldn't have seen it if you hadn't been looking for it -- shot out of the wand and was almost instantaneously reflected back onto its caster. The man had time for no more than a strangled cry before he fell to the terminal floor.

Willow immediately tan over to him and bent down, palming the wand as she did so, made a production of feeling for his pulse and then yelled, "Help! Someone! Help!"

One of the guards had already noticed, and came over and waved Willow away. "What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," Willow said. "He was walking along and he just fell down!" After a second, "Will he be okay?"

"We'll do our best," he said. "Joanna!"

One of the other guards said, "Already called."

"Thank you," the man said. "There's probably nothing more you can do here."

"Okay," Willow said, starting to back up. "I hope he's okay, though."

As he walked over to Buffy she muttered "He won't be." By now almost everyone else was through the security gate.

"Explain it after I've caught the flail," Buffy said, and proceeded to do just that, although Spike's throw was a good deal less elegant than Daria's had been, and almost sent Buffy diving to the floor to prevent the weapon from landing with what certainly would have been a loud crash. "Okay, now," she said. "What happened?"

"I've been probing the wand ever since I picked it up off the Knight," Willow said. "It was designed to make the person it was pointed at have a heart attack. Not a spell anyone could whistle up on a moment's notice, not even someone as powerful as I am. This took some preparation. I'm betting he --" she pointed to the prone man -- "Is actually one of their priests."

"Good going in blocking it. One more thing."

"Yeah?"

"I'm rubber and you're glue?" Cameron had been wondering the same thing herself.

Willow shrugged. "With a lot of spells, it's not the wording, it's the intent. I used that one for the first time a long time ago and it's always worked to reflect magic back on its caster. It only works on spells, though, and we don't deal with that many hostile ones of this sort."

"And, and thank the goddess for that," Tara said. "I've never been able to make that one work."

"I'm going to need your help disposing of this thing later," she said. "I wouldn't want to leave this lying around and more than Giles did that hypodermic."

So, that was the fourth attack.

And there was still at least 40 minutes before they could even board the plane.

X X X X X

Faith came to in a women's room stall, once again with a note in her hand.

_Hey. Sorry to wake you up in the middle of a restroom in the St. Louis Airport, but a lot has happened in the last several hours and I wanted to provide you with an update. Also, I may have to call you out at a moment's notice and I didn't want you to possibly have to waste precious seconds trying to figure out what's going on._

_We're under attack here at the airport. The Knights of Byzantium got word ahead to the local chapter -- apparently they're like the Masons, only more violent -- and we've been under assault ever since we've been here. Four times, so far, all different. All subtle, too. One by knife, one by hypodermic, one by magic, and one by main force, masquerading as a crazy person. Most of them are going crazy figuring out what kind of attack will happen next?_

_The Knights are just smart enough to realize that a massed assault would be counterproductive. _

_Plans have also changed: We're not hanging around St. Louis, but flying straight through to Baltimore. The reasons why are partially luck, and partially because I've actually made a friend._

_I'll wait while you say something skeptical or smartassed._

Skeptical or smartassed? Hell, she was thrilled for DM. Sure, she dug the connection the two of them had, but it was good for her to get out some. Girl wanted to be antisocial and all, that was on her, but you had to connect with someone.

She'd had that kind of connection once briefly with B. With any luck, she'd have it again at some point. But that was way in the future.

_Okay, I think I've given you long enough. The problem is, the Knights seem to think she's Cameron Kim. You and I know better, of course, but one of the attacks was on her._

_I wish I had the copy of _Watchmen_ here for you to read, but they're going to be expecting me back out in the waiting area soon. I look forward to the next time we're able to talk about it._

_DM_

Faith read over it a second time.

She didn't blame DM and the rest of them for worrying, but she was fairly sure they were overthinking things. She scribbled out a quick reply and said, "Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

Daria was surprised to still be holding the note when she came to, and then she noticed that Faith had added something to the bottom.

_DM: _

_You're a bright chick but every once in awhile you kind of overlook the obvious. Quit worrying about what different ways they're going to attack you. Unless they say, fuck it, and go for an all-out blitz, I'm betting they're going to keep trying the same things over and over again until they either work or you get on the plane._

_And don't relax there. I doubt they'd do anything to the plane itself -- the one thing they seem to want to steer clear of is collateral damage -- but I'd say everything else is fair game._

_Good luck. Call me if you need me._

_Faith_

Good ideas, all.

As Daria was crumpling up the note, there was a knock on the door. "Not to be a mother hen, but did you fall in?" Jane said.

She tossed the note into the toilet and flushed, then opened the stall and said, "No. Just getting some alone time. I haven't had that in a while."

Jane frowned. "You don't really seem to be friends with most of these people -- except for the psychiatrist. Still. I'm kind of thinking that asking you about it would be a bad idea."

"Not at all," Daria said. "Asking it wouldn't be a bad idea at all." A pause then, "Answering it, however, would be."

"Ah. Right. I won't bother, then." A sly smile. "For the moment. But one of these days I expect more answers, Morgendorffer."

"I think you can wait for the major motion picture along with everybody else."

They left the women's room, Daria casually positioning herself to leave first just in case someone was there waiting to try something.

Someone was. Another man with a pocketknife, to be precise. How he got by the metal detectors, she had no clue. It was possible, she supposed, that one of the guards was a Knight of Byzantium, but why postulate conspiracy when simple incompetence would do?

Daria reached out, twisted his wrist, forced him to drop the knife onto a nearby bench, and gave him a quick shove away, all before Jane had completely exited the restroom. The man walked away quickly. She hid the knife in one hand until Jane was slightly past her; then she jammed the knife into the bench, snapped off the blade -- the Knights apparently couldn't sneak quality weaponry past the metal detectors -- and threw both halves of the now worthless knife into the trash. Then she rushed up to Jane.

"Unusual bunch here tonight," Jane commented.

"It's the middle of the night in an airport. What were you expecting?"

"Fewer clumsy drunks and crazy people," Jane said. "This is an airport, not a bus terminal."

"And you make a habit out of hanging out at airports in the middle of the night?"

"Not usually," Jane admitted. "Or bus terminals, either. I guess I just didn't anticipate so many close encounters of the vaguely threatening kind."

And that was too close to the truth for Daria's comfort. They walked back to the waiting area in an uneasy silence.

Twenty minutes to go.

X X X X X

When Daria and Jane came back from the restroom, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled it back in as Daria made a beeline for her.

The first thing she did was say what Faith had told her. Good points, all. The Knights didn't need to be original, and they didn't need to limit themselves to just ground attacks. Then she mentioned the near-attack she'd foiled as she left the restroom.

Then Buffy mentioned the one she'd foiled. "That man over there sleeping?" Daria said she noticed him. "Not sleeping. Conked in the head by the near-invisible flail. That spell of Willow's is proving to be very useful. This time around, he was getting ready to throw a dart."

"Tip coated in ricin?"

"We didn't actually get a chance to ask him, what with him falling over unconscious and everything," Buffy said. "Giles certainly acted like it was, and I can't blame him. Willow held the thing telekinetically in midair until she could quietly vaporize it."

Cameron Kim came over and said from behind them, "I think I just got another one. The man in the pilot's uniform."

"Are your sure he's not the actual pilot?" Daria asked.

"It's possible he's both," Buffy said, "Anyway, what makes you so sure?"

Cameron said, "Enhanced hearing, remember? I heard him saying into his collar that this was their last chance to destroy the Key, and that all Knights needed to converge now. They may be on the verge of open attack."

"Okay," she said, and she and Daria moved over to where almost everyone else was sitting. She told them what Cameron had overheard.

"About time she was useful," Spike said. "So, you expectin' a mass assault?"

Daria said, "No. Not unless they're feeling suicidal. That the Knights were taken into custody by the Kern County Sheriff's Office is now a matter of public record."

"They could be exactly that desperate," Giles said.

"We can't take the risk," Buffy said. "Dawn?"

"Yes?

"Over here. Behind us. Daria, get Jane and make some excuse."

Buffy could hear their conversation. Daria told her, "I suspect we'll be boarding soon."

Jane frowned. "I'd say your internal clock is off by a good fifteen minutes."

"I've been meaning to buy it a new battery," Daria said. "Come over anyway. For my piece of mind."

"What the hell," Jane said. "It's not like there's anything about this particular section of wall that's more interesting than that particular section of wall."

Jane joined them, and she and Daria made sure that she was between her and any potential assault except one coming from the plane.

Speaking of which -- "Giles, keep an eye out. Everyone else, stay alert."

"For what?" Jane asked.

No one answered. No one could.

In any event, they didn't have long to wait. About five minutes later, the pilot Cameron Kim had pointed out came over, trailed by four other men.

Everyone tensed. Even Jane, when she realized that everyone else had tensed. "Ease off," she said. "It's like you're expecting to be attacked." After a second, when no one said anything funny, "You're actually expecting to be attacked. What the hell have I gotten myself into?"

"I'll explain on the plane," Daria said. Assuming we make it on, of course, Buffy thought sourly.

"Easy, Slayer," the pilot said. "You've beaten us here." Jane mouthed 'Slayer?' to Daria. Daria mouthed 'later' back, firmly.

"I'd feel a lot more sanguine about that if you didn't have a posse behind you," Buffy said.

"She's right. Back off."

"But, sir --"

"I'm the commander here, and I say back off. The Slayer is not going to hurt me unless I attack first. Which I will not do. You have my word." The other four men moved away. "Congratulations," he said bitterly. "You've beaten us here. Assuming what you said about the Beast is true --"

"It is," Buffy said.

"Then we would be fools to delay you further. Our only option at this point is a pitched battle -- and neither you nor I wish you to still be here when she comes, and a pitched battle at this point would be settled by airport security. So go. And good luck staying ahead of her."

"For whatever it's worth," Buffy said. "She has a time limit: She has to be home by tomorrow night or she will never be able to get back there. So please. Back away."

"We cannot do that," the pilot said. "For the moment, a cease fire is beneficial to both of us. But once you touch down in Baltimore, the battle begins anew," His expression hardened. "And, of course, we will show no quarter to the shapeshifter, as she showed none to us."

"Fine. But that's not her."

"So you say."

"I'm not lying," Buffy said. "That is not Cameron Kim. I give you my word. For whatever that's worth."

The pilot said nothing except, "Baltimore, then," and turned around.

The ensuing silence was broken by Jane, who said, "Okay. _Now_ do I get to know what's going on?"


	29. Glory Shrugged

Disclaimer: Daria and Jane were created by Glenn Eichler; Buffy et al were created by Joss Whedon; Lynette Vaughn was created by me."

X X X X X

No one said anything. Lynette Vaughn could have, but it wasn't her place to do so.

"Well?" Jane asked. "Daria, at first I thought this penchant for secrecy was amusing. Now I'm worried about whether I'm about to be killed by Mafia assassins."

"The good news," Daria said, "Is that there are no mob hit men. The bad news is that it's still not my secret to give away. Not without permission." She looked over at Buffy. "Under the circumstances, do I have permission?"

Spike said sarcastically, "Sure, tell her. And while you're at it, why don't we rent out a bloody billboard in Times Square?"

Okay, enough was enough. Possibly it was the irritation, possibly it was the nerve-wracking events of the last two hours, or possibly a simple accumulation of everything that had occurred in the last few days, but that was it. "Shut up, Spike," Lynette said.

"What?"

Irritation evident in her voice, she said, "I believe the meaning of the phrase is, 'Close your mouth and stop talking.' I believe it is evident to everyone here that you don't like Daria. I believe Willow also isn't fond of her."

"I'm not," Willow said. "Just for the record."

"That was _also_ evident to everyone here," Lynette said. "Except possibly Jane. But you've managed to control your feelings, for the most part. Spike hasn't bothered. Now, I don't care why. I don't care that you think this is some scam she's running; I don't even care if you think she's the antichrist. But I am getting heartily sick and tired of you running her down at every available opportunity. So I'm telling you this once and once only. Knock it off. Now."

"Or what?" Spike demanded. Apparently he thought Lynette was bluffing.

Lynette had dealt with prison inmates who thought they were the biggest, baddest bitches around. She'd even dealt with those who _were_ the meanest bitches around. And one thing she'd learned from handling them: If you make a threat, be prepared to back it up. Not with calls to the warden, or by yelling for the guards. But by yourself. In other words: Don't bluff.

So she wasn't about to back down now. She took a step over until she and Spike were practically face-to-face, noting with a detached amusement that she was actually taller than the vampire, and said, calmly, "Or I will knock your teeth down your throat."

"So what? She needs a protector?" Spike said contemptuously.

"You know what?" Lynette said. "I don't know if she does. She doesn't act like she does. But until she tells me flat out to get lost, she's got one."

"And," Daria said, "Just for the record, I don't plan on saying that for quite a while."

Lynette smiled for a second at her. That was about as affectionate as Daria usually got, and she appreciated it. "So," she said. "Are you going to knock off the cheap shots?"

Spike looked around at the faces of everyone else. Apparently, he didn't like what he saw. A glance showed that, apart from Willow, no one was giving him any support. "Since you've bloody well left me Hobson's choice, I can't damn well watch over the niblet if I storm off in a huff. So okay, I'll shut up while _Daria_'s in earshot. But I don't have to like it."

So saying, he walked off, apparently to cool himself down. Willow followed him.

Damn. She hadn't been sure that would work. Spike didn't strike Lynette as a _poseur; _he struck her as an honest-to-god badass. But apparently one who'd learned to pick his battles. Just like with Willow, she had no illusions that any underlying issues had been settled. But she was getting sick and tired of his constant sniping. And unlike with Willow, it seemed obvious that it wasn't going to be possible to appeal to Spike's intelligence to get him to lay off. Not that the vampire was an idiot. But, unlike Willow, he didn't have pride in his intelligence.

And the only way to get a genuine big bad to back down is to prove that you were just as willing as they were to fight.

"Okay," Jane said. "Now that we have all of the macho posturing out of the way, will someone tell me what's going on?"

Noticing the flight attendant approaching the nearby podium, Buffy said, with an air of resignation, "Sure. But we might want to wait until we're actually on the plane. This isn't the kind of story that can be easily told in five minutes -- and not when anyone else is around who might overhear us and either call the local mental ward, or even worse, take us seriously."

"Fine," Jane said. "So you're saying I should prepare myself."

"Beyond the wildest dreams of _Sick, Sad, World_," Daria said.

"I've seen some of their wilder dreams," Jane said. "Are you saying you can top Thomas Jefferson's secret sex journal?"

"Yes."

"Damn, amiga. What are you into?"

"Just wait a few minutes longer. I promise you chills and thrills aplenty."

"I'd make a smartassed comment here, only I'm not entirely sure you're kidding." She went over and sat down. To her credit, she didn't run away.

Then, to Lynette, she said, "I don't say this kind of thing very often. But thank you. Not just for telling off Spike. Which I definitely appreciate, but it wasn't really bothering me all that much. To take an insult seriously you have to have respect for the source. But thank you for the sentiment behind it. It, er, does mean a lot."

"It's like I said. You may not need a protector."

"You know," Daria said hesitantly. "I think I do. For all that I'm 20, I only have the life experiences of a 16-year old. My intellect helps me deal with a lot. But, although I like to think I _could_ deal with life on my own if I had to, it's nice not to have to." Then she smiled faintly. "Normally, this is where people hug."

"I wouldn't dream of trying," Lynette said. "But I believe that was the verbal equivalent."

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus woke up on an airplane.

In first class, naturally.

Well, she deserved it.

Doc was also there.

None of the minions were. Maybe somewhere along the line they'd bought a clue or two. Though more likely Doc had just threatened them with the wrath of her.

"I presume you would like an update of the situation, divine one?" Doc asked.

"You got it."

"I'll tell you the good news first. Ben has agreed to stop fighting us. He liked the idea, I suspect, of living his own life." This was good; at least she wouldn't have to worry about him throwing himself off of a building, or something just as stupid.

Like he had the guts to do it. But still, it was better that he not even be thinking about it. The sooner they were divided into their component parts, the better.

"The one thing me and Benjy always agreed on," Glory said. "So, how long before we land?"

"Only a few minutes," Doc said. "Obviously, the likelihood of the Slayer and the Key still being in the area are rather small."

Glory shrugged. "Then we kill people until someone tells us what we need to know. I don't see what's so hard about that."

"Because, divine one," Doc said quietly, "As I have pointed out, you may be the strongest being on this world, but even you would find it hard to slaughter your way across half a continent."

"So what if a few thousand more of these petty creatures get killed?" Glory asked.

"In the overall plan, very little," Doc admitted. "But in terms of drawing attention to yourself, divine one, it is probably something to avoid. Also, along that line of thinking: It might be a good idea for us not to speak so openly of killing -- I'm guilty of this myself. But right now, we are trying to avoid such attention."

"Whatever," Glory said. She was getting a little tired of Doc's insistence on this, honestly, but she'd play it his way for now. She needed him and his spells to be able to get back home. "I gotta say, though, I'm getting pretty damn sick of caring about what other people think."

"We don't. But we do care about what they _do_."

The descent into St. Louis lasted another 15 minutes, but to Glory it felt like hours. Every second was one less second she had to get home.

One more second closer to merging permanently with Ben.

The Slayer's flight would have landed two _hours_ ago.

Well, she knew this much. The bitch had damn well better have left a clear trail like she did from LA to here, or she didn't care how bad it looks, she was going to start killing people until they told her.

A confused flight attendant came through, probably looking for Ben, but one look at Glory's face told them they'd be better off not saying anything, so, showing more brains than most of the people on this pathetic dirtball, they left her alone.

By the time they finally left the plane Glorificus was in a foul mood. The minions apparently sensed this and stayed away -- since when had they grown brain cells? -- and none of them tried to talk to her. Doc did, but then he was the only one of her followers who wasn't routinely annoying. Or good for more than cannon fodder.

Her mood improved slightly when she saw the person standing there as they exited the plane. AS big dumb-looking guy, but he was holding up a sign that read "Glory." "Yeah," she said as she and Doc walked over to the man. "I'm Glory."

"Good," the man said. "A girl named Buffy told me to tell you that she and her friends are on a flight to Baltimore, and that they'll wait for you there."

"Yeah?" Glory said. "Prove it."

"What?" the man asked. "All I can tell you is what she told me. Wait for a woman named Glory getting off the plane from Los Angeles and tell you that she and her friends were going to Baltimore -- and that they have your key with them, if you still want it."

"You bet your ass I want it," Glory said.

Doc said, "Thank you," and the man left.

"Do you believe him?"

"I do," Doc said. "The Slayer has every incentive to keep us following her. It minimizes the -- collateral damage. Remember, divine one. She cares about the other people on this planet, while you and I know better."

"Grrrr!" she growled. "That means we have to wait _another_ several hours in a damn plane. And I'm hungry."

Doc smiled. "I said you shouldn't kill," he said. "I never said you shouldn't _feed_."

X X X X X

The plane to Baltimore was approximately half-full. They all sat together towards the back, and there were a couple of rows between them and the nearest other group of passengers, except for one woman, who fell asleep before takeoff.

Most of them also tried to catch up on desperately needed sleep -- Buffy and Daria might be capable of doing without, and Spike to some extent, but the rest of them were only human. "Even me," Anya had said, somehow managing to grumble and yawn at the same time.

While the same held true for Jane Lane, she was apparently too wired to fall asleep. Buffy and Daria quietly told her as much as they thought she could handle. By the time they were done, it was 5:30 AM, everyone else but Spike was out, and the first words out of Jane's mouth were, "Actually, I _do_ think I saw that on an episode of _Sick, Sad World."_

Buffy blinked, apparently unused to Jane's odd sense of humor, but Daria simply said, "Could be. I was otherwise occupied for several years."

"Of course you were," Jane said. "Being buried in your own psyche gives you a handy excuse."

"Although not one for all occasions."

"True. 'Sorry I missed the inauguration, Mr. President, but I literally wasn't myself at the time."

"I haven't been able to catch up on politics," Daria said. "_Would_ I be sorry?"

Before Jane could answer, Buffy asked, "Seriously. This is your reaction? We tell you vampires and magic and werewolves are real and you react by bantering?"

Jane shrugged. "It's how I react to pretty much everything," she said. "But if you're asking, am I okay with what you've told me, I believe the answer is in an unqualified _are you out of your mind_? But I did ask. So if part of me is quietly gibbering in terror while sucking my thumb, I have only myself to blame."

"At least it's not the part on the outside."

"True. It might make the other passengers nervous." Then, in a deadly serious voice, she said. "You're not kidding."

"We're not kidding," Buffy said.

"And you're not completely insane?"

"That part's still open to debate," Daria said. "But, if we are, this isn't a symptom."

"Do you have any proof?"

Buffy said, "They always ask for proof," then looked over at Spike.

The vampire said, "I'm not a bleedin' show pony. And this is the wrong place and the wrong time. I don't fancy learning to fly."

A valid point, Daria had to admit. A sudden showing of Spike's vampire visage could panic the other people on the plane. And, while it might be amusing to see hysterical people running around a plane, it was probably counterproductive to their long-term goals.

"That leaves you and me," Daria said.

"I don't think it's anymore the right time and place for a demonstration of combat techniques," Buffy said.

"I wasn't thinking of that," Daria said. "I was thinking more of something that other people can't see."

"Flail or hammer?"

"The hammer's more impressive."

"True." Willow had warned them that the Tarnhelm effect would expire not long after they landed in Baltimore. They should be able to make it out of BWI, failing another gauntlet of Knights of Byzantium out to kill Dawn. "But the flail's less likely to break her arms."

"Also true," Daria admitted. The flail, while a solid weapon, was within the range of unenhanced human ability to pick up. Olaf's hammer required superhuman strength.

"Okay, Jane," Buffy said. "We have something to show you. Actually, we have something _not_ to show you. Hold out your hands . . ."


	30. My Other Body Is a Hellgod

Author's Note: Apologies for the slight delay, but I wanted to work out the conversation in part two very carefully.

Disclaimer: Buffy and friends were created by Joss Whedon. Daria, Jane, and the mystery guest at the end were created by Glenn Eichler. I created Lynette Vaughn and Cameron Kim.

X X X X X

Buffy had seen people panicked, nervous, completely freaked out, babbling, disbelieving and in complete denial on the "vampires are real" question. But blasé? She'd only seen that once before. Oz.

Jane Lane in no way reminded her of Oz. She was talkative where Oz was brief, cynical where Oz was accepting, female where Oz was male. And her hair actually seemed to be its natural shade.

Now, Jane claimed that she was running around in terror on the inside, but Buffy was fairly sure she was saying that just to make Buffy happy, because it wasn't reaching her outside at all. Instead, all she'd done, after getting the proof, was ask a couple of questions and listened to a truncated version of Buffy's story, with emphasis on their current situation. When Buffy finished her five-minute life story -- look for the major motion picture in a theatre near you -- Jane had asked, "And how does this explain why the nice man in the pilot uniform was looking at me as though he wanted to dismember me with a rusty chainsaw?"

"Because," Buffy said, "He mistook you for somebody else. A woman named Cameron Kim, who's kind of traveling with us."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "'Kind of' traveling with you? So she's with you but you make her walk ten paces behind." She looked around the plane. "And I don't see anyone else around here who looks much like me, anyway."

"The answer to your first question," Daria said, "Is no. Instead, we have her walking in front of us to trip landmines." Buffy thought she got Daria's metaphor. "And the answer to your second question is . . ."

Either Daria was tongue-tied -- unlikely -- or she was deferring to the expert. Buffy said, "She's a shapeshifter. And the pilot and his friends all know this. So when all of a sudden you started walking with us --"

"I see," Jane said. "I suppose this means that it's time for me to run away from you people as fast as humanly possible." She made an exaggerated show of looking around the plane. "Which, at the moment, is kind of difficult."

"Yes. I was going to tell you to enjoy the jump," Daria said.

"Ah, but it's not the jump that kills you. It's the sudden stop at the end." Then she quirked a smile. "In any event, it's taken me 20 years to find someone who's as weird as I am and as unafraid of showing it. I'm not going to let the threat of death and dismemberment drive me away." Then, "Besides, I watched you try to explain this to the pilot. He didn't seem convinced." True; at best, he'd been willing to table the issue.

"I suspect that, short of having her show herself then and there, that wasn't going to happen," Daria said. "And it couldn't have happened then, anyway. She wasn't in the immediate vicinity."

At this point, Buffy yawned and said, "If you'll excuse me. Maybe the two of you have replaced all of the blood with caffeine, but if I don't get my fifteen minutes a night, I'm no good the next day."

Jane looked at Buffy and said with a slight smirk, "You took that from _MASH_, you know."

Buffy'd thought she'd come up with it all on her own, but it wasn't really an issue to fight over. "Well," Daria said. "If you must steal, steal from the best."

"Goodnight," Buffy said pointedly.

X X X X X

Buffy was kind of surprised to find herself back in a very familiar apartment. "Hey, B," she heard from behind her. "Long time, no see."

She whirled. It was Faith, of course. "So, is this real?" she asked.

Shrugging, Faith said, "Define real."

"Am I talking to you and not a version of you I've made up in my head?"

Faith said, "I think the versions of each other we see in our heads are all a bit real. They may be nightmares -- did I tell you that when I was in the coma I had a nightmare of you chasing after me and gutting me -- or they may be polished to a nice gold sheen, but they're real. 'course, we won't know for sure until we have this conversation outside of this dreamspace, whatever the hell it is."

"And we won't be having that for a while."

"Probably not," Faith said. "Not with Cameron Kim waitin' to pounce as soon as I show my face. Not that too many of you besides the doc and DM probably give a good goddamn that I'm stuck in here. Most of 'em probably wish I'd stay in here for good." She cracked her knuckles and grinned. "Ain't gonna happen, of course."

"Actually," Buffy said, going by the assumption that she was indeed talking to Faith, "Apart from Willow and Spike I'm not sure most of them care all that much anymore."

"See, I get what crawled up Red's ass," Faith said. "She never liked me in the first place, never trusted me, and whaddaya know? She was right. Anyway, DM said she's been behavin' herself."

"Give or take the odd glare or surly comment whenever Daria talks to Tara, sure," Buffy said.

"Huh. I wonder."

"What do you wonder?" Buffy asked.

Faith said, "I wonder if Red might be jealous. After all, it seems lately that every time blondie needs rescuin' Daria's been the one to do it."

Okay, sometimes Faith showed insight, but this time she was way off base. "No Tara's about as devoted to Willow as it's possible to be."

Unexpectedly, Faith laughed. "Interestin' that your mind started twistin' that way, B. Naah. Not what I was goin' for. It might be a little bit of it, the sexual angle, but DM's straight as they come -- in theory, anyway. I'm thinkin' more like she's been doin' what Willow thinks she should be doin' -- savin' Tara when she's in trouble. Plus, DM may be the first chick I met who's as smart as Red is, and you know how she always likes to be the smartest person in the room. With DM around, she ain't."

Buffy frowned. "I guess you could be right. I just would have thought Willow was too smart for that."

"It ain't the brain," Faith said. "It's the emotions. For all that Red likes to pretend her brain is always in charge, you and I both know that ain't the case." Which, unfortunately, was true. When Willow went off the rails, she went off the rails in a big way. "Anyway, like I been sayin', I get why she's pissed at me, and she can stay pissed as long as she wants as long as it's me she's pissed at, and not Daria. Now, the source of Spike's mad-on, that's somethin' I got no clue about."

"Well, you don't need to worry about him giving Daria too hard a time," Buffy said, and explained what Dr. Vaughn had said to the vampire.

Faith laughed again. "That's the doc for you."

:Yeah, Remind me never to play poker with her. That was one hell of a bluff."

"She wasn't bluffin', B," Faith said. "Think about the type of people the doc's been dealin' with the past ten years. If the doc was bluffin', all one of them would have had to do is call it, and she wouldn't've been as good as she was. Couple chicks tried. They didn't make the same mistake twice." Then she flexed her muscles. "She couldn't take you or me, and I wouldn't set her against Kakistos, but I'd make book on her givin' Spikey a run for his money, even if he wasn't neutered."

Buffy noticed that Faith and Daria had one other thing in common: They both thought Lynette Vaughn walked on water. Well, hell, after what the woman had done for them, Buffy could hardly blame them.

Still, the woman couldn't take Spike. But now, Buffy believed she'd at least be willing to try.

"Spike's just being hypersensitive, I think," Buffy said finally. "He's developed kind of a personal interest in protecting me and Dawn --"

"Personal?"

Buffy closed her eyes. "Don't tell me no one told you."

"Pretend they didn't, B. Enlighten me."

Buffy mumbled out, "Spike thinks he's in love with me," hoping Faith wouldn't make her repeat it.

Vain hope. "Come again?"

"He thinks he's in love with me!" Buffy practically yelled. "So in addition to not being able to hurt anyone, he's actually decided to try to become helpful. Give or take the Buffybot."

"He made a sexbot of you?" Faith asked. Buffy nodded. "Shit, B. How the hell ain't he dead?"

"He almost was," Buffy said, "But then Glory caught him and tortured him to make him give up who the Key was. He was willing to kill himself instead. So I cut him some slack. I also told him it was a one-time pass."

"Do you really think a vampire can reform? Without the whole soul deal, like Angel?"

Faith's question didn't come off as hostile, but Buffy suspected it was a damn good thing she hadn't said it anywhere Spike could hear. "If you can, anyone can. It's not like having a soul stopped you."

Faith started to say something, then stopped. "No. I guess it didn't. But I always thought the equation was, no soul, no conscience, no conscience, no trust. You can't trust most people with souls, but you can't trust anyone without. I thought that was the way things worked."

And that answer right there proved to Buffy that Faith had changed. She could tell that the other Slayer had wanted to snap off a hostile answer, but she'd managed to stop herself. Buffy might have let a bit of hostility enter her question -- hostility she couldn't have controlled -- but Faith, recognizing the truth of Buffy's statement, hadn't responded in kind.

"That's the way I thought it worked, too," Buffy said. "Maybe Spike's proving us both wrong."

"I hope you're right, B," Faith said. "You know the situation better than I do, so it's your call."

Buffy bit off a sarcastic response -- she and Faith appeared to have reached a level of interaction that didn't involve continual sniping or death threats, and she wanted to keep that up -- and said, "I appreciate that."

Faith chuckled. "You almost said somethin' smartassed there. Don't bother denyin' it, B; it ain't like I'm offended anyway. You been treatin' me serious, and I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Then Buffy looked around. "So, was this the only reason you brought me here? To hash out Willow and Spike's attitude?"

"First thing is, I didn't bring you here. You and I both know we can't control these damn things. I guess some power out there thought we needed to talk, and didn't want to take a risk on anyone overhearin' -- not Cameron Kim, not anyone. Second thing is, honestly, that's the least of the shit we needed to go over. Though I am glad we talked about it. The other one is, DM told me that you all were having a hard time with saying the phrase 'Glory is Ben.' In here, I don't have an issue. It didn't seem to bug her as much, either."

It was easier for Buffy to get the idea, now, though whether that was because the spell was weakening -- Willow's theory -- or because there was something unique about a Slayer dream that made the spell less effective, she had no clue. That wasn't her field anyway.

"Ben is Glory," Buffy said slowly. "I'm glad she thought to mention it to you. So what did you want to talk about -- er, about it?"

"Is Ben any kind of supernatural critter himself? DM gave me the impression that he was a normal human, but she was kind basin' it off a five-minute conversation and whatever she picked up from you. I never met the guy at all."

"As normal as a human being can be who could have a bumper sticker on their car reading, 'My other body is a hellgod.' Why?"

Faith took a deep breath. "Because it might be the best way to kill Glory."

It took Buffy less than a second to piece together Faith's reasoning. When she did, she said, a bit angrily, "We don't kill people."

"Let's try to keep this calm, B. I'm not sayin' it without havin' given it some thought. This ain't Faith the killer you're talkin' to any more. I'm not sayin' we do it for shits and giggles, or just because he's in our way. I'm sayin' we do it because it might be the best way of takin' care of our hellgod problem without riskin' Dawn or anyone else any more than necessary." When Buffy didn't answer, Faith said, "Well, if you _want_ to throw people into the line of fire --"

"It's not that simple," Buffy said. Part of her was thinking that, yes, this was the same old Faith, and that everything that came before this was just an illusion, something that Buffy wanted to see. The rest of her realized that was an emotional reaction. Because Faith was right -- well, maybe not about killing Ben, but in the old days she wouldn't have bothered trying to make a case to kill Ben; she'd have just done it and dealt with the fallout.

But the fact that she was presenting the argument maturely and intelligently still didn't mean she was right. "He's innocent."

"Yeah. He is. I ain't arguin' that point. But so's everyone else who might die if Glory made it home."

"Slayers don't kill people," Buffy repeated.

"You keep sayin' that like it's gospel truth, B. Well, I got a newsflash: It's a hell of an ideal, and it's a good one -- and one I been doin' a piss-poor job of livin' up to. But your hands ain't completely clean. Unless you made sure those Knights you tossed off the roof of the RV landed on nice comfy pillows."

"That was self-defense," Buffy said.

"Yeah. So's this."

A thought occurred to Buffy. "I'm kind of surprised that you'd be making this case," she said. "After all, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Sure. But they weren't tryin' to kill Daria too. Put it this way," Faith said. "So let's say you and me all of those weapons and Red's spells and Cameron Kim, we manage to work together and kill Glory. Because honestly, I'm guessin' that even with the time limit we're gonna be facin' a po'd hellgod, and one with nothing' to lose, so it's gonna be her or us. Unless you were planning' on runnin' the rest of your life. Which I doubt. So, say we all manage to kill Glory."

"Okay, say we do," Buffy said. "Yay us."

"Sure. Yay us. But is Ben gonna be any more alive whether we kill him or Glory?"

"Oh." Dammit. She hadn't thought of that.

"Oh," Faith said pointedly. "Now, unless you got a way to split 'em in two -- what?"

"We do," Buffy said. "Back in Sunnydale. Last fall we had a demon try to kill me by separating me into my slayer and Buffy parts -- except the wand's magic hit Xander and not me. I bet Will could adapt it so that it would split off Glory and Ben if we had -- no. No, it wouldn't've worked. One of the reasons the demon wanted to split Buffy and the Slayer into different beings was that, if you kill one half, the other half also dies. Which would be what we're trying to avoid."

"Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," Faith said. "So. Are you with me?"

"No." Before Faith could protest, Buffy added, "But I'm not against you, either. I'll accept your idea only if we have no other choice."

"I don't see us talkin' a hellgod who's been denied the chance to go home for all eternity out of tryin' to reduce us to a pile of bone and ashes, but I'll let you have first crack. But if that don't work, and I'm around, I might take second crack without your say-so. But here's the thing, B. I might not be around, and DM ain't gonna be able to do this. She's a talented amateur. But she ain't a killer. So that's why I'm talkin' this over with you rather than her. You might have to be willin' to do it yourself if you have to."

"I don't know if I can," Buffy said.

"Well, think it over fast. It ain't like we got a lot of time."

True.

Dammit.

X X X X X

Daria and Jane talked all through the night until they got to BWI. She just didn't want the conversation to end.

"It doesn't have to permanently, amiga," Jane said as they picked up her luggage and walked to the pickups area. (Daria was keeping an eye out for Knights, but so far, none of them seemed to be present.) "C'mon up to Lawndale with me."

"We were kind of hoping to convince you to stay with us."

"Yes. I noticed the overwhelming enthusiasm."

"Look. Some of them are clearly feeling insular -- and the stress of the last few days hasn't helped a whole hell of a lot. But we can't let you out of our sight right now."

"So watch over me in Lawndale. Be it ever so crummy, there's no place like home. Look, Morgendorffer, unless you knock me out and tie me up, I'm going there, so if you want to keep an eye on me --"

Right then, a male voice from behind said, "Hey. Janey. Who's your friend?"

They both turned around. "Daria," Jane said. "This is my brother Trent."

And once again Daria was speechless.


	31. What If

Author's Note: Apologies again for the slight delay. I will finish this fic before getting to work on any potential expansion of _Damned for All Time,_ I promise you.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine. Mostly.

X X X X X

The next flight to Baltimore left in about an hour and a half, which gave the Divine Glorificus half an hour to find "food."

Of course, she didn't have to eat human food. She didn't even like most of it. (Though she did have a fondness for shrimp fra diavolo.)

Normally, she would have just walked up to the nearest flesh bag, stuck her hands into their heads, and get down to the business of draining their mental structures, but not today. No, today they needed to be _careful_. Or someone might _notice _her.

_What if you tried to go without draining anyone else?_

_Benjy? Is that you?_

_You got it, sis,_ came the voice from her head

_I thought you agreed not to interfere._

_This isn't interfering._

_I'm hungry and you're trying to stop me. Call me crazy, Benjy, but that's interference as far as I'm concerned._

_I'm not trying to stop you. Doc convinced me, remember? You go home and I get my life back. I realize I'm crazy to trust you but it's the only choice I have. Anyway, if I wanted to, I could stop you. _

_Sure you could._

_Think about it. Have we ever been able to communicate like this? _

_We normally communicate as little as possible. And if you can take me over, then why don't you?_

_Because you could take it back. I'd never be able to get anything done -- if I was still trying to stop you. But like I said, Doc convinced me. I want my own life. And if they stop you, we're stuck with having each other in our heads for the rest of our lives. I don't know what that would be like, sister dear, but if it's anything like this I'm not looking forward to it and I bet you're not either. Also, of course, if they kill you, they kill me. And I don't want to die._

_I'm surprised you're not whining about all the people I've killed._

_I'm not. Not as much as I should be. And it bothers me that your murder of dozens of people doesn't really bother me. Your lack of a conscience is getting to me as much as my having one is getting to you._

_So, if it doesn't bother you, why are you trying to stop me from feeding?_

_Force of habit. Go ahead. Drive a few more people crazy. It's not like a couple one way or the other is going to make that much of a difference._

Ben almost sounded like he was giving up. Good. With any luck, that meant that the voice inside her head would shut the hell up!

_Almost done. And what would the point be of continuing? My conscience isn't doing anything more than slowing you down and giving you a few twinges of guilt._

_And I'm getting just a little tired of it even doing that._

Ben didn't say anything else, thankfully. Glory was getting sick of his whining anyway.

So, where could she go for a quick feeding that wouldn't be so damned obvious that Doc would start complaining again, too? She looked around and smiled.

Perfect.

She walked right into the women's bathroom.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim had tried to stay awake, but her supernatural powers didn't quite so far as to eliminate her need for sleep. (And she'd seen what had happened to the people at Wolfram & Hart who'd gone that route. Eventually, their dreams caught up to them. While they were awake. It wasn't pretty.)

She jerked awake as the plane touched down at BWI. For a second, her mind was filled with wild thoughts that the Slayer and Daria and her friends had waited until she was asleep, then had talked openly about the Key and how Daria was actually secretly Faith, laughing at her the whole time.

Then her rational mind kicked in. First off, everyone else, except for Daria, Jane, and Spike, was either still asleep or just waking up, just like she was, and second, none of them except Daria, Buffy, and Lynette Vaughn knew who she was. They wouldn't dare risk talking because they wouldn't know who she was.

And, even though it was still early morning, there _were_ a few other people awake on the plane. (Hopefully, the pilot was one of them.) Spike had moved to the other side of the plane as quickly as he could to avoid the sunlight. Fortunately for him, they'd be leaving the plane by a skyway, so he wouldn't have to scamper across the tarmac trying to avoid catching on fire.

Everyone in the Slayer's group woke up very quickly. Within a few minutes of touching down, they were alert and ready.

Which only made sense. They had no idea when the Knights of Byzantium would strike again, and they needed to be ready for anything, up to and including an assault before they left the plane. There seemed to be a mutual agreement that they'd leave last -- they would have been likely to anyway, since they were grouped together at the back of the plane, but that way they'd be ready in case anyone was waiting.

Spike would be close to useless in a fight at this point, but he had the most to gain from getting off the plane quickly, so he'd be leaving first, followed by Daria and her quasi-invisible flail. (The spell, she'd overhead Willow Rosenberg say, would wear off in a couple of hours. Too bad. A weapon the enemy couldn't focus on could be very helpful.)

Then everyone else, with Buffy Summers somewhere in the middle and Willow Rosenberg bringing up the rear.

Despite everyone's hyperawareness, though, the Knights of Byzantium were nowhere to be seen or felt. Cameron overheard Xander Harris quip, "Well, of course. You're not going to find anything even remotely resembling a knight this close to Washington, DC." Which lightened everyone's mood for a second, but that was about it.

You couldn't have sense the hyperawareness and obvious stress from Jane Lane, and if you didn't look carefully to see how she was keeping an eye on her surroundings, you couldn't have told that Daria Morgendorffer was, either. A useful personality trait, and one Cameron wished she had, at times.

Despite the sleep almost everyone else had gotten, no one else except for Tara MacLay and Xander Harris were in anything even approaching a good mood. Spike and Anya were griping almost non-stop, thought at least in Spike's case he had the excuse of potential imminent flaming death.

So, why weren't the Knights of Byzantium attacking? She could think of four reasons. One, they'd given up. Not very likely. Not as fanatical as they were. Two, this was all part of a subtle plan to keep the Slayer and her friends off-balance. Also not likely. Any group capable of assaulting an RV on horseback in broad daylight didn't exactly get the concept of subtle. Three. There really weren't any Knights close to Baltimore. Possible, she supposed, but she didn't really think so, unless St. Louis having a sizeable enough population of Knights to harass them was a coincidence. (Cameron wasn't putting any stock in Xander Harris' joking suggestion.)

Unfortunately, that left option four: The Knights were gearing up for another major attack, and weren't going to waste their time on minor assaults. The next time she got the chance, she'd have to mention this to Buffy Summers.

In the meantime, a semi-concerted effort was being made to convince Jane Lane to join Buffy Summers and her friends wherever they went. (Semi-concerted because it was mainly Buffy, Daria and Rupert Giles doing the talking.) Amusingly, Jane was putting forth an equal effort into not only being allowed to return home, but into having everyone else follow her, if they were so interested in keeping an eye on her, that is.

And having equal luck. So far, neither side had been able to convince the other of the justice of their cause, though Jane Lane had said and apparently meant that if they planned to have her go anywhere _but_ home if would involve a chloroform-soaked rag. Or possibly a bottle to the back of the skull.

And those were things that Buffy Summers almost certainly wouldn't do.

Cameron would, every once in a while, if forced to. She didn't like it, but she could imagine situations where kidnapping someone for their own good would be necessary. (Wolfram & Hart, of course, was perfectly capable of kidnapping people for the company's own good, but she'd never been part of that particular end of operations.)

There was even more amusement when Daria and Jane ran into a fairly good-looking guy only a couple of years younger than Cameron, who looked like he put the "slack: in "slacker." The amusement came from Daria's reaction, which was the same as any young woman's reaction to any guy they found exceptionally attractive -- but it was something Daria had had no experience with.

Of course, the reasons why she hadn't were far from amusing.

The young man himself -- name of Trent -- was amiable and, while clearly not as intellectually slack as he looked, seemed completely oblivious to Daria's obvious attraction. So, for that matter, did everyone else except for Buffy Summers and Lynette Vaughn.

But that did bring matters to a head regarding where they were going to be going next, since Trent was Daria's ride.

This should be an interesting discussion. Cameron got as close as she could without arousing suspicion and listened.

X X X X X

Daria desperately wished for two contradictory things: One, that the earth would open up and swallow her on the spot -- she couldn't believe she was having this kind of reaction to a guy. (The hope she'd had that he would prove to be a moron were dashed when she heard him talk. There was an intelligence there, manifesting itself as a clear disbelief in Jane's somewhat glib explanation as to why the motley crew of Slayers and hangers-on might be following them home, but apparently he trusted his sister's judgment.

Either that, or she wished Faith were there, because she had a lot more experience in dealing with men. Of course, she had no idea what Faith's reaction to Trent would be -- Faith's type, by her own admission, was walking, talking, reasonably good-looking, and male, and the talking part was optional -- but she certainly wouldn't be tongue-tied.

Or she'd just have sex with him. Okay, scratch that idea.

Rallying herself, she forcibly ignored her lust-at-first sight reaction -- she recognized the differences between love and lust, and knew damn well that there was no such thing as _love_ at first sight -- and got back into the conversation aimed at determining where everyone was going next.

Honestly, for all that Daria had originally followed Buffy's lead in trying to get Jane to join them, her heart wasn't really in it. She felt a connection to Jane that she, perhaps selfishly, didn't want to give up, and was just as happy going to Lawndale.

Besides, it was time she finally visited the place. On off moments, she'd wondered what her life would have been like had Willard Jay Harbaugh wandered off in a different direction on the night of April 10, 1997.

Them she remembered: She would have been a Slayer, anyway. And the Watcher's Council apparently wouldn't have taken "you have to be kidding me" as an answer, at least given their behavior when finding 'Faith' instead of Daria. So any even moderately pleasant thoughts about how things would have gone were counterproductive.

Things would have sucked either way. Yes, her family would still be alive.

But they weren't. And no amount of what-ifing would make it otherwise. The alternate universe was a concept best left for fiction.

Anyway. Leave it to her to segue directly from "good-looking guy" to "what if my parents had lived." Back to the conversation. "Where were we planning on going, exactly?" Daria asked.

"What?" Buffy said.

"Well, if we were going to keep running, we would have gotten right back on another plane, to Toronto, or Miami, or wherever. No, we're not just going to stick around the airport, but we're driving away from here, not walking. Dr. Vaughn would pay, if necessary. So obviously we're going to make a last stand of some sort. Now, were you planning on making it in a god-forsaken wilderness?"

"Not too many of them around here," Trent said. "Hmmm. Could be a good idea for a song. The wilderness has been forsaken. My life is what you're takin'. So here's my plan to make my last stand . . ." Noticing everyone looking at him in bewilderment, he said, "I'll work on it later. But what's this about a last stand?"

Jane said, "I'll explain it to you later, Trent. Why don't you go get some coffee?"

"But that would make me more awake." At Jane's glare, he said, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes." He was clearly still suspicious, but also clearly still willing to trust her. He ambled off.

"No, we weren't planning on holing up in the wilderness," Buffy said.

"Good," Anya said grumpily. "I hate wilderness."

"At the moment, so do I," Spike said.

"Well, then," Daria said, "We're going to end up somewhere. And honestly, if Jane is so insistent on going home, I say we go there." She smiled faintly. "I'd suggest that we put it to a vote, but as you keep saying, this isn't a democracy."

"It isn't?" Jane said. "Darn. And I went through all the effort of getting my voter registration card."

"What fun is that when there's only ever one name listed for dictator?" Daria said.

At this point, Buffy threw up her hands. "Okay, fine. You want to go to Lawndale, we'll go to Lawndale."

"I just want to go _somewhere,"_ Willow said grumpily.

"Well, the first thing we're going to need to do is rent a car," Dr. Vaughn said. "Jane? Will your brother take the rest of us?"

"Trent's very easy-going," Jane said. "Whoever won't fit in the car can ride in the back."

"I'm going to have to be one of them," Spike said. "For obvious reasons."

"And Daria," Jane said with a wicked grin. "You can ride in the front."

"No --"

Dr. Vaughn said, "I think that would be a wonderful idea."

Terrific. They were all against her.


	32. Negotiating with Terrorists

Author's Note: Geography of area based on local geography. Soldier's Delight is a real park in Baltimore County, Maryland; by my judgment it would be about 15-20 miles south of where I'm placing Lawndale.

Also: Edited to correct three stupid mistakes on my part. Thanks for the feedback. (At least you only caught two of them.)

Disclaimer: The Lane siblings and Daria were created by Glenn Eichler; Buffy and the rest of the Slayerettes were created by Joss Whedon; the plot, Cameron Kim and Dr. Lynette Vaughn.

X X X X X

Lynette Vaughn was sorry she'd pressured Daria to sit next to Trent Lane almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth. While she wanted Daria to socialize, trying to force her into it could only lead to bad things. Daria was the type of person who would dig in her heels if pressured to do something she didn't want to do -- especially if it was "for her own good," the way Amy and Rita Barksdale, and Carla Fisk, had done -- and, if somehow dragooned into actually doing it, would do her damnedest to sabotage the situation.

There were circumstances when people needed to be pressured into doing things -- but this wasn't one of them, and Daria wasn't one of them. She could be argued into it or convinced, or she could decide on her own.

She walked over to Daria as the conversation became a big "what to do next," and quietly apologized.

"Apology accepted," Daria said immediately. "But don't do that."

"I know. You don't appreciate being pressed into doing things for your own good."

"Don't appreciate, hell. I loathe it with a passion I usually reserve for the extraordinarily stupid."

"Like those two acquaintances from Highland?"

"Exactly like them. And with exactly that much intensity. More, considering that every once in a while I could actually manipulate those two morons into doing things."

"I understand," Lynette said.

"I'm glad you do," Daria said. "Jane, on the other hand --"

Lynette smiled. "You do seem to have become close with her rather quickly."

Something about Lynette's tone must have alarmed Daria slightly, as she said, "Does this worry you?"

"No!" Lynette said quickly. "Not at all. I'm happy for you." After a second, "Have you told her about --?"

"No. Not yet. Cameron Kim, you know." After a second, "I am worried about how they'll get along."

So she was going to tell Jane at some point. Lynette wasn't surprised.

And, while she wasn't worried about Daria's budding friendship with Jane Lane, she did want to talk to the girl first.

Just to make sure Daria and Faith wouldn't be hurt.

X X X X X

The Knights of Byzantium were pretty damned considerate this time, Buffy thought sourly; they waited until the two vehicles had made it all the way past the end of Interstate 795 before they tried anything.

Trent Lane and his van -- which, as he explained, actually belonged to "his band" -- led the way. Spike, Jane, Daria, Willow and Tara rode in there. Everyone else rode in the jumbo-sized SUV that Lynette Vaughn rented. Buffy had the hammer with her, and Daria Faith's flail. As they'd gotten onto 795 from the Baltimore Beltway, the hammer had shimmered a bit. "That would be the spell finally wearing off," Giles said.

The Tarnhelm effect wearing off was the least of their problems. How Buffy had let herself get talked into going to Lawndale, Maryland, she had no idea; she was fairly sure she was still in charge here, but was having a difficult time proving it by anyone else.

Of course, their bad moods could possibly be explained by the extended road trip they were on; in a bit under four days they'd met Daria, found out Faith was still alive, had Tara exhaust herself with a teleport spell she was only now recovering from, had to talk Willow down from a murderous rage, met a shapeshifter, managed to fight off Glory by the skin of their teeth, run for their lives on the spur of the moment, battled the Knights of Byzantium twice, taken two plane rides, and gotten maybe one night's sleep spread out over two -- and Daria and Buffy hadn't even gotten that.

And that, of course, gave her the idea as to how she'd let herself be talked into heading to Lawndale: they had to go somewhere, and if Glory was as close behind them as they thought, they didn't have a whole lot of lead time in which to get lost and get rested up, in case Glory found them.

They'd led the hellgod on a chase across the country and managed to stop her from killing anyone else like she'd done at the Kern County Sheriff's Office. So far.

And what would she do if Glory threatened mass murder unless her Key was brought to her? Yes, it was poor policy to negotiate with terrorists, but those rules hardly applied here -- Glory wouldn't be making greater demands in the future. The only thing she could hope for is that the idea wouldn't occur to her again.

She wouldn't give Dawn up to prevent that. Not for mass murder, not for anything. Daria was right. It wasn't their fault that Glory had murdered those people at the Sheriff's office. It was Glory's. And if she decided to kill hundreds of other people along the way, that was on Glory's head too.

Speaking of Glory's head: She needed to talk with Giles about the conversation she'd had with Faith. Because she was still having a hard time getting her head around the idea that killing -- killing -- damn! Ben, that killing Ben was the right thing to do if they got the chance. Giles had more experience.

Hell, she'd ask Lynette Vaughn, if she wasn't so sure that the psychiatrist would turn around and talk to Daria about it. And Faith was right -- for all of the events of the last few days, Daria still wasn't really battle-tested yet. Buffy could see circumstances where killing someone would be the right course of action. Daria, she was fairly sure, wouldn't.

They'd pulled off the interstate and down a small side street, where they ended up at a gas station. "Sorry about that," Trent had said as everyone except Spike got out to stretch their legs. "Just noticed. Almost out of gas."

They took the opportunity to wander into the associated convenience store and pick up some snacks. As they were headed back to the vehicles, Buffy saw the three other SUVs that were even now blocking the entrances to the gas station. Six men got out of each one. "Everyone, stop!" She commanded.

Everyone except Trent did. Jane grabbed his arm. "She meant you, too."

"Oh. Okay." Then he said, "Janey. What's going on here? Why are those SUV's blockin' us in?"

"They're about to try to kill us, I think," Jane said.

"What?"

"I swear I'll explain as soon as we get out of this. But right now I think we should back into the store."

Smart girl. The Lane siblings did just that. "Dawn--"

"Yeah?"

"You too."

"Right now, I'm not going to argue."

Before the men -- and if they weren't Knights of Byzantium, Buffy would eat her shoe -- got closer, Giles said, "Are you really planning to tell him?"

"Under the circumstances --"

"The circumstances. Right," Giles said. "Why don't we take out a bloody billboard in Times Square?"

"We couldn't afford it," Buffy said distractedly. "People -- positions --"

Despite that they'd never actually discussed what positions to get in, they got into a reasonable approximation of a battle formation, even if it was one missing one of its best fighters. If things went to hell here, all Spike could do was throw things. Buffy, Daria, Willow and Giles stayed in front, with everyone else behind them. They didn't have the hammer or the flail, which left them only hand weapons.

"Slayer," one of the men said.

"Knight," Buffy said contemptuously. "A little public for you, don't you think?"

"Our futures mean nothing --" one of the men behind them said, only to be shushed by the first speaker.

"A point, Slayer. We are willing to do what is necessary right here in this gas station -- but we would prefer to finish things up away from other people. Can we trust you?"

Buffy burst out laughing. "Can you trust me? I'm not the one who's been trying to kill you for the past three days." Her eyes narrowed. "And if you go away now I won't try to kill any more of you ever again."

"We can't," the man said, almost apologetically. "It is our mission."

"And you did kill some of us," the man who'd spouted off before said.

Now it was Daria's turn. "That's rich," she said. "You try to kill us, and it's your right. We kill or injure you in self-defense, and you actually have the gall to get angry about it. You may not have noticed, but there's an inconsistency there. It's the same inconsistency shown by all street gangs and terrorist organizations, though, so it puts you in good company. Right up there with Al Capone and Osama bin Laden."

"Our mission is a holy one."

"Yes. That's often the rationale terrorists use."

"If you would prefer to take this elsewhere, Slayer," the first Knight said, "We can do so. If you would rather take care of it here, we can do that as well. Assuming you want to be answering a lot of questions from the police when the Beast shows up."

"I need to talk with my people." The man gave a go-ahead gesture, and everyone huddled together.

"You can't be taking their 'offer' seriously, Buffy," Willow said. "This is a trick. I'm sure of it."

"I'm, I'm not so sure," Tara said. "The two times they've attacked us, they seem to have tried to avoid trying to, to kill other people."

"They have," Daria said. "I agree with you."

"Well, of course you do," Willow said sourly.

"I realize you still have your issues with me," Daria said. "Might I suggest that now isn't the time to delve into them?"

"Eighteen of them against us, when one of our best fighters is out of commission," Xander said. "I'm not liking the odds."

"Buffy, you fought them before in open combat. How were they?"

"They know how to use those weapons," Buffy said. "They're competent fighters. I'm probably good for six of them. Daria's probably good for a couple."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Daria said, with a faint smile. "Right now, our choices are threefold. Fight now, fight later, or pretend to go along with them and then bolt at the first opportunity."

"We've had too much 'collateral damage' on this trip already," Buffy said. "We don't fight now unless they force us to."

"Trickery?" Xander asked.

"I'm always open for it," Buffy said. "But I'm fresh out of tricks."

"We could simply drive like hell in the other direction," Xander said.

"Yes," Giles said. "Because the last car chase we were in turned out so well."

"I might suggest," Lynette Vaughn said, "That there's a possibility they might be tricking us. They call themselves Knights, but Daria's right: They're holy warriors. They're single-mindedly in pursuit of a goal. This could be their attempt to lure us to an area where they can set up an ambush. I know people like this -- I've treated a few. Fanatics are willing to say or do anything."

"So we choose the meeting place," Buffy said.

"Ah," Daria said. "Our vast knowledge of the area should serve us well."

"We might not have vast knowledge of the area," Buffy said, looking back towards the store. "But we know someone who does."

X X X X X

Daria went into the convenience store to talk to Jane. The man behind the counter said, "Hey! You people clear out! You're blockin' my customers."

"Don't blame us," Daria said. "Blame the people in the SUVs. We'd be happy to leave."

"You got one minute or I call the cops."

When she walked over, Daria asked, "Did you?"

"No," Jane said. "How are things going out there?"

"We're about ready to settle it by fighting it out somewhere away from here where there's no chance of witnesses or innocent people getting in the way. Do you know anyplace like that around here?"

"Hmmm. Lawndale's a bit too urbanized, for the most part. Your best bet is somewhere in between here and there."

"Janey?" Trent said. "You're taking this seriously?"

"Unfortunately, Trent, yes, I am."

"What did you people get my sister into?" Trent asked Daria.

In the heat of the moment, her attraction to him went well into the back of Daria's mind. "We didn't get her into anything. She decided to talk to me, and that got the attention of these lunatics that have been following us around and trying to kill us. Why?" She wasn't going to tell him why. "You'd have to ask them. But they are."

"So why aren't they just attacking now?" Trent said.

"A good question. But right now, unfortunately, we don't have time for questions, good, bad, or otherwise. Jane? Anywhere?" When Trent opened his mouth, Daria said, "Please. Trent. We will answer all of your questions. But not now."

"Hmmm. Soldier's Delight seems like your best bet."

"What's a Soldier's Delight?"

"A two-day pass to a whorehouse." Daria glared at her. "What? I wasn't going to let a straight line like that pass me by. Soldier's Delight is a park. A decent place for a walk in the woods, if you like that kind of thing. Or, if I were inclined towards painting nature scenes, it would be terrific. I'm not, by the way. Too commonplace. Everyone thinks they can paint 'happy little trees.' As it is, I go there every once in a while, for a little solitude, when I need it. It's a bit far away from Lawndale to make it a regular habit, but it's only about 15 minutes away from here."

"Trent?"

"No. But then, I'm not used to thinking of places in terms of whether they're suitable for duels to the death. Moshing, yes; dueling, no." He held up his hands. "Just try not to get Janey hurt. Please."

"I'm aiming at no one getting hurt," Daria said. "I'm sorry we've dragged the two of you into this."

"You didn't drag me," Jane said. "I dragged you. If I hadn't been so insistent on you all joining me --"

"We knew this could happen at any time," Daria said. "Anyway, Trent. Try to lay low. They're almost certainly not going to do anything to you." She wished she was as confident as she felt. Their attacks in the St. Louis airport had been aimed, apparently, at Dawn, Willow, and Jane (whom they wrongly believed was Cameron Kim), not at any of the rest of them. So it was a logical conclusion.

But, again, these people were 'holy warriors,' so it was possible that logic wasn't their strong suit.

They all walked outside and present Jane's suggestion. Buffy turned to Trent. "Do you know where this place is?"

"Yeah," he said. "I can get you there. But I got a gig tonight."

"Good," Buffy said. "You'll be back in plenty of time for your gig." Then, to the Knights of Byzantium, she said, "Okay! Here's how we're going to play this. We've chosen a spot. You follow us there. Any signs of anyone else joining in and the deal's off. Any harming of innocent people and the deal's off. Agreed?"

"I say we kill them now!" The loudmouthed one said.

"Quiet," the leader said. "Agreed. But nothing funny from you either."

"Yes, because hilarity's what we're aiming for," Buffy said. "Just try to keep up."

They all got back into the van and SUV. While Willow explained things to Spike, Trent drove off down the nearby main road.

When they were, according to Jane, about halfway there, Daria said, "There's something I need to show you."

"Thanks, but I don't swing that way."

"Not that," Daria said. "Remember when I was telling you about Faith?"

Suddenly, Tara said, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"It's not like Cameron Kim can overhear us at this point," Daria said. "I doubt even her ears are this good. No matter how she enhances them."

"Bloody hell," Spike said.

"Look. It's not like I want to expose her to the two of you either. But I have no choice. Buffy was right. I'm not combat-tested and the middle of a potential apocalypse isn't the time to find out. Tara. Explain who they are to Faith, please."

"Of course."

Jane seemed confused. "I don't get this."

"You will. Give us a kiss."


	33. The Word of a Knight

Author's Note: A familiar face among the Knights of Byzantium . . . I'll explain my reasoning for the choice at the end . . .

Disclaimer: _Daria_ et al: Glenn Eichler. _Buffy_ et al: Joss Whedon. Lynette Vaughn & Cameron Kim: Me.

X X X X X

When Faith came to, she was facing a black-haired chick she'd never seen before; she was saying, "I said I didn't swing that way," sounding somewhat amused.

Faith looked around. She, Red, Tara, Spike, the black-haired chick and some guy driving the van -- van? -- they also didn't know, were heading down some back roads. Faith guessed they'd landed in Baltimore, though where they were going she had no clue. For once, DM hadn't left a note in her hand.

To the girl, Faith said, "Good to know," looked at Tara, Spike and Willow and said, "Okay. What's goin' on? Why'd DM bring me back here and now?"

After a second or so, Tara said, "Because we're about to get into a big fight with the Knights of Byzantium." Then she explained what had happened in the last fifteen minutes. When she was done, she finished by adding, "I think she just wanted to be sure we had the best fighter available because, you know, Spike's not going to be able to help."

"Thanks for remindin' me," Spike said sourly.

Faith ignored him and said, "Who're these two?" She looked at the black-haired girl. "You Jane?"

"Me Jane. Him Trent. Who hell you?"

"Faith."

"Wait a minute," Jane said. "Aren't you supposed to not be around any more?"

"Yeah. I been disappointin' people like that for years."

"Janey," Trent said. "Now I'm confused. And not the kind of confusion I usually have. So don't try to be funny."

"You and me both," Jane said. "So. Why didn't Daria tell me you were still inside her?"

"She probably couldn't, "Faith said. "There're people who think I'm dead and DM and me aim to go on foolin' em as long as we can. Now, if you're askin' why she picked now for the big reveal, it beats the hell out of me. You'll have to ask her the next time you get the chance."

"I will," Jane said.

Tara said, "I think, under the circumstances, she, she might have thought she didn't have a choice." There was a scowl on Willow's face; more of that jealousy thing rearing its ugly head. Now sure as hell wasn't the time to get into it. Tara finished with, "I, I don't think she picked this time to freak any of you out. That includes you, Trent."

"Yeah," Faith said. "Good point. DM might be willin' to try to be funny, but she's too responsible to be fuckin' with me if we're about to go into a battle. You're probably right, Tara."

Jane, meanwhile, was looking at Faith like she was sizing up a painting. "You know," she said. You really are a separate personality."

"Good to have your vote of confidence," Faith said, at the same time Spike snorted and said, "Yeah. _That's_ debatable." Terrific. She was stuck in a van with no one in between her and the two people who seemed to hate her most in this world but Tara. Not that Faith was afraid of Spike, but if Red got pissed off, that was a whole different story.

So the best thing to do at the moment was ignore them. In the meantime, Jane said, "Didn't mean that to come out quite the way it sounded. I believed Daria when she told me about you, but there's a different between faith -- no pun intended -- and proof."

"Yeah, I guess there is. One more thing. Don't tell anyone I'm still here."

"Oh gee. And a stint in an insane asylum of my very own sounds like so much fun."

"This is the turn," Trent said. "We're almost there."

"It might be best if the two of you stayed in the van, or maybe even got the hell out of the neighborhood," Faith said.

"They'd be takin' me along," Spike said. "I'm not abandoning my post."

"Spike, from all I've heard you're a hell of a fighter in the dark. In the daylight, Gary Coleman could take you. This is daylight. I'm not knockin' your abilities or impugnin' your manhood. But right now you can't help."

"Daylight?" Trent said. "No, wait. This is another 'later' thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Faith said. "I'm sure DM told you this though, but sorry you all got roped into this. This ain't your fight."

"I'd make book the Knights ain't gonna see it the same way," Spike said as Trent parked the van.

It turned out Spike was right. Him, they'd let stay in the van. They insisted everyone else participate in the fight.

"Are you kidding me?" Buffy said. "They're noncombatants. So's my sister."

"Nice try, Slayer," the Knight said. "However, we will not harm the noncombatants unless they attack us first. Will that do?"

"I suppose it'll have to," Buffy said. The two groups walked a few hundred feet into the woods into a small clearing surrounding a log cabin. Neither group wanted to be last, for obvious reasons. Faith solved the matter by shoving the last -- a young black man, couldn't have been much older than Faith -- in front of her and glaring at him until he got moving.

"You'd better not try anything," he said.

Doing her best to mimic Daria's accent, she said, "I'm not going to be the one to strike first."

"Or last."

"Just move."

X X X X X

"Any suggestions?" Buffy asked Jane as they strolled down the trails of Soldier's Delight

"Down this path about seven minutes there's an open field. We're still a little too close for civilization. But then, I'm going by the assumption you don't want too many witnesses."

"You're taking this awfully well," Buffy said.

"You don't know me," Jane said. "As I was saying to -- Daria -- inside the van, sometimes you don't really believe something until you see it. I trusted you all back in the plane, especially with the invisible hammer and flail --" Buffy had the hammer, Faith -- and Buffy could tell the difference -- had the flail.

Fifteen Knights, vs. Buffy, Faith, Giles and everyone else -- would be an even fight, if they didn't have Willow on their side. As it was, it wouldn't necessarily be an even fight, but it still likely wouldn't be easy. Neither Tara nor Willow specialized in combat spells.

And then there was the wild card: Cameron Kim. Buffy hoped she'd be able to get involved in the battle. No cars had followed them, obviously, all the way to Soldier's Delight, but that didn't mean anything.

A few more minutes' walk and they were in an open field. "Okay, everyone," she said. "Scatter. Jane, Trent, you're off limits. Get to the side and try to stay well away from the fight."

"Trust me," Jane said. "I wasn't planning to get involved." Everyone else, meanwhile, moved around the battlefield-to-be. Everyone but Willow and Tara had weapons.

"Good. Dawn?" There were several scoobies in between her and the nearest Knight of Byzantium.

"Yeah?"

"There's a path back there. Get on it and run."

"But --"

"No buts," Buffy said. "Move." She moved.

One of the Knights of Byzantium said, "We'll catch her. You know we will."

And just as it looked like the fight was getting ready to start, Jane Lane said, "Mack?"

The Knight who'd just spoken turned and said, "Jane?"

The lead Knight said, "Hold." Then he walked up and said to Mack, "You know this girl?"

"Yes, sir. I went to high school with her."

"Will you be able to do your duty?"

"To stop the beast," Mack said. "Absolutely. But if you want to do anything to her or her brother . . . "

"Understood." He pointed to the middle of the battlefield, near where Anya and Xander were standing. "Go there so you may avoid hurting them."

In the meantime, Buffy had called Jane over. "You know him?"

"Yeah. He was one of the few people who made going to high school almost bearable. Good guy. At least, I thought so before I found out he was willing to kill you all."

"It's a cult," Faith said. "Maybe he'll be a good guy again at some point." Faith was living proof of that. Still.

"Are you going to have any problems with us hurting him?"

Jane shrugged. "Not on my top ten list of things to get done, but he's with a group of people attacking you. I'd appreciate it if you didn't kill him, though.

"Okay. Thanks." Well, hell, this close to Lawndale it wasn't surprising that there were a few Knights from there. Sucked that Jane had to know one of them, but a choice between him and her friends was no choice at all. "So," she said to the lead Knight. "Are you ready?"

"Yes. Knights -- attack!"

One of them pulled out a dart and threw it at Willow. She yelped and went down.

"That had better not have been ricin," Buffy snarled at her opponent.

"What do you think we are?" the Knight send, sounding slightly offended. "Murderers?"

Buffy's response was a hammer blow to the man's knee.

X X X X X

So far, apart from the tranquilizer dart thrown at Willow Rosenberg, Lynette Vaughn appeared to be wrong about the Knights' trickery. A second dart, thrown at Tara MacLay, was blown back into the Knight's face; he also went down.

As for Lynette, apart from a few displays at the LA County Women's Prison, she hadn't been in an uncontrolled fight in her life. She was confident in her own abilities -- but there was a difference between abstract confidence and a direct face-off.

Fortunately, she was only facing one Knight. Rather intelligently, the Knights were concentrating their attacks on the two experts in the group -- Buffy and Faith. She'd been surprised, initially, when she'd seen Faith come out of the van, but she understood Daria's reasoning, and hoped Cameron Kim wouldn't figure it out.

Anyway. The man came at her -- interesting how the Knights seemed to be an all-male organization, she wondered if they had a Ladies' Auxiliary of some sort -- wielding a short sword. He didn't seem to have any armor, which was good, but he clearly knew how to use the sword, which wasn't.

First rule of fighting someone with a weapon: If possible, run. If not, dodge them as long as you can, until they made a mistake. She supposed it was possible to run, but she didn't give the idea a second thought.

That left dodging. Lynette moved quickly for someone her size -- very little of her two hundred pounds was fat. Keeping in such good shape helped her avoid being hit while she waited for her opponent to screw up. They were fighting in grass that went above her ankles.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that Rupert Giles had gotten a sword away from his opponent, who was down on the ground. Tara MacLay, in the meantime, had a look of cool fury on her face and was blowing dust in the face of any Knight who came within thirty feet. Two of them were staggering around rubbing their eyes, but no one could reach them. Xander Harris was down --

Damn. She hoped he was okay. Where Tara's look was one of cool rage, Anya's was murderous. She stood up and charged at the Knight who'd apparently clouted Xander with the club he was carrying. They both went down in a tangled heap.

Dodge. Turn. Twist.

Faith was fighting a knight with a longsword, while Buffy appeared to be counting coup with that hammer of hers. Two Knights were down holding their knees, and right now she was facing two at once who seemed to be the Knights' best remaining fighters.

Her Knight swung awkwardly at her waist -- she almost made her move then, but decided against it. Good decision. He recovered quickly.

One of the Knights snuck though the line and took off running into the woods, presumably chasing after the Key. This distracted Buffy Summers for just a second -- enough for one of her opponents to punch her in the face. She fell to the grass, losing her grip on the hammer, and the Knights grinned.

Faith wasn't about to let anything happen to Buffy, though. She tangled the flail's chains around her opponent's sword, sent it flying, and then smashed one of the two Knights standing over Buffy into the skull with the butt of her flail.

Back to her own problems. Her Knight finally made a mistake that Lynette could capitalize on. While thrusting forwarded, he stepped awkwardly onto a clump of grass, and stumbled. She grabbed his sword arm with her left arm and chopped at it with her right until he dropped the sword. Then she pushed him away and he fell down.

Lynette didn't know any fancy maneuvers she could use against prone opponents, but fortunately, she didn't need them. She simply pinned the man to the ground and began to choke him with his left hand. He struggled for about thirty seconds, but eventually fell unconscious. As soon as Lynette was sure, she let him go. Unlike her opponents, she wasn't a murderer.

She looked up at a changed battlefield. Willow and Xander were still the only two down; Anya's opponent was unconscious and had a badly bloodied face; almost everyone else was concentrating on Buffy and Faith. Giles was running off into the woods, probably after the Knight who'd been chasing the Key. The Lane siblings were gawking at what they were watching, but they seemed safe. Good.

It looked as though the Knights' gamble hadn't worked. There were maybe five of them still on their feet. While Buffy and Faith dealt with them, Lynette went over and gently pulled Anya off of her opponent, then bent down to look at Xander. Thank God. His breathing was okay. There was a lump behind his right ear -- he'd hurt like hell there for a week or so -- but he wasn't showing any of the signs of a concussion.

He opened his eyes right then and said, "Did we win?"

"Winning," Lynette said. "Not won. Stay down for the moment."

"I can do that."

She called Anya over to keep an eye on him, and went over to look at Willow. Her breathing was regular, and the entry wound for the dart didn't show any sign of discoloration. It must have been a fairly powerful tranquilizer to act that quickly, but the only way she'd be able to tell which one would be to see when Willow woke up and what her side effects were. If any.

"It looks like she'll be okay. Stay with her."

Tara nodded, and Lynette stood up. Only three Knights were still standing, one of whom was Jane Lane's acquaintance, Mack. The fight was over --

Or, it was, until one of the other Knights suddenly bolted over to the three where the Lane siblings were standing, hit Trent in the base of the skull, and pointed a sword at Jane's throat. "Stop!" he yelled. "Now! Drop your weapons and bring the Key out. Or she dies!"

"So much for the Knights of Byzantium keeping their word," Buffy said.

"I said, drop the weapons."

"We'll drop our weapons," Buffy said, doing so. "But we're not bringing out the Key."

"Her or this girl."

"Wait a minute," Mack said. "Our leader gave his word."

"Our leader is on the ground unconscious," the Knight said. "That makes me the leader."

"No," Mack said. "It doesn't. I want the Key destroyed as much as you do, but if we don't keep our word, we're nothing."

"And if we do not use every means at our disposal to find the Key, then the world will be nothing," the Knight said.

"You're doing this without my help," Mack said. "I'm gonna go check up on the fallen." He dropped his mace and bent down over one of the prone Knights.

"I don't need your assistance, traitor," the Knight said. "We can do this without you."

And that's when the leopard attacked him.

X X X X X

Okay. here's my reasoning: None of the major character adult males in Lawndale made sense. DeMartino's too independent minded, O'Neill's too sensitive, Andrew Landon too devoted to money and success (which would make this the wrong kind of cult for him), and as for the other students, with the exception of Upchuck, they were all morons, and Upchuck would have been just too funny. So Mack was the best choice.


	34. There Will Not Be a Fifth

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the original characters and the plot.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim had been moving through the woods for at least ten minutes, trying to track down where the Slayer and the Knights of Byzantium had gotten to. She didn't want to use the trail, which would have made running easier, but also would have made her approach too obvious to the Knights.

That left making her way through the trees. Unfortunately, the wooded area nearest the battlefield was partially choked over by a thorny plant of some sort, which made ground maneuvering almost impossible.

Fortunately, Cameron wasn't limited to ground travel. Admittedly, orangutans weren't built to swing through this mix of deciduous and coniferous trees, but it was a lot easier than trying to cut through the thorns. It had taken her this long to get to a vantage point overlooking the combat zone.

At first, it looked like her mad dash across the treetops had been a waste of time; the Slayer and her friends were easily winning the fight. Only a handful of the Knights were still standing, and everyone but Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg were still standing on the other side. She hoped they were okay.

But then one of the Knights changed the rules, and threatened to cut Jane Lane's throat unless Buffy brought the Key out.

Buffy Summers was going to do no such thing. Cameron couldn't see the Slayer letting the girl die, but she wasn't going to sacrifice someone she cared about --

Her. The Knight had just said the Key was a her. She wasn't Daria Morgendorffer, she wasn't Buffy herself, and she wasn't Tara MacLay. Jane Lane was out for obvious reasons, as was Lynette Vaughn.

That left Willow Rosenberg, Anya, and Dawn Summers. One of them was definitely the Key.

Cameron was fairly sure who. But she didn't _know_, and that was the slender thread by which she remained the Slayer's ally, rather than, potentially, her enemy.

In the meantime, two of the Knights had gotten into an argument. Weird. Cameron would have bet they were monolithic, one mind one heart one goal and all that nonsense, but apparently she'd been wrong.

The Knight holding the sword at Jane Lane's throat didn't seem inclined to give in, so Cameron figured it was time her for to step in. She dropped to the base of the tree she was in, carefully picked her way through the thorny undergrowth, and went leopard as soon as she got clear. She leapt onto the Knight five seconds later.

He was taken completely by surprise, like she'd anticipated. He dropped his sword. Cameron mauled him until Buffy Summers had pulled both of the Lane siblings clear, and picked up the sword in the bargain. Then and only then did she resume human form -- not her natural one, of course. No point giving the Knights any more of a lead on her than they already had.

"Good timing," Buffy commented, picking up her hammer.

"Thanks," Cameron said. While another couple of Knights had regained their feet, only two of them still had drawn weapons.

"I think this means we've won," Buffy said. "Dr. Vaughn. How are Willow and Xander?" Her tone indicated the answer had damn well better be "okay."

"Alive," the psychiatrist said. "Xander's awake, but Willow's still unconscious."

"That damn well better not have been anything but a tranquilizer," Buffy said.

"It wasn't," The Knight who'd been arguing with the hostage taker said. "Assuming they weren't lying to me, that is." He sounded vaguely disgusted with the whole endeavor. Good. Maybe he wouldn't waste his life with these fools. "And I apologize for my comrade. He wasn't living up to the Knightly code. I will make sure she's disciplined."

"I don't care if you dress him up in a tutu and parade him down Main Street whistling _The Battle Hymn of the Republic_," Buffy said. "We've now beaten you people three times. If there's a fourth, I can guarantee you this: There will not be a fifth. Do I make myself clear?"

"As glass," the young man said.

"Look," Buffy said. "You actually seem like a decent guy. Back out now while you can. This whole thing with Glorificus is going to be settled one way or the other by the end of the day tomorrow. So unless you guys have something else to do with your lives, the Knights of Byzantium are about to become nothing more than a social club. Go home. Think. Figure out what you're going to do with the rest of your life." A bit of steel entered her voice. "Maybe find a way of fighting evil that doesn't involve trying to murder innocent people for 'the good of all mankind.'"

The young Knight said nothing. Buffy turned to Cameron and said, "Thank you."

"That's why we set things up this way," Cameron said. "Anything else you need me to do?"

"Not really. I think we've got it from here."

Cameron nodded and ran off, this time back down the trail.

X X X X X

When Cameron Kim showed up, Faith waited until the situation seemed to be under control before quietly saying to herself, "Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

Daria came to at the end of the battle. Since there were more Knights on the ground and nursing injuries than there were members of their own party, she felt it safe to assume that the good guys had won the day. While Buffy talked with one of the Knights of Byzantium, she walked over to Dr. Vaughn and said, "It seems as though I was right to opt out when I did. What happened?"

The psychiatrist then gave a brief description of the combat to Daria. "You were right not to trust them," Dr. Vaughn said when she was done. The dart thrower, she supposed, could have been considered a normal part of combat, but the one who'd tried to take Jane hostage simply hadn't held up his end of the bargain. Which made him typical for the human race, unfortunately, but fit no definition of Knight that she'd ever heard of. For the moment, she held off talking to either Trent or Jane. They needed some time to recover.

"Not trust a terrorist organization," Daria said. "Who could possibly have imagined it? Next you'll be telling me the ocean is wet. At least the one seemed to show traces of humanity."

"You sound surprised," Dr. Vaughn said.

"Of course I'm surprised," Daria said. "You know me and you know how I think. People who behave like the hostage-taking Knight are far more common in the world than people who behave like Mack. It's always surprising to see the good side of people. But that's because so few people actually seem to have one. Present company excepted."

"How much of the present company?"

Reluctantly, Daria said, "All of them. Even Spike and Willow, despite their dislike of me personally. I'm not an arrogant person; the true measure of someone's goodness is not measured by how pleasant they are to me." After a second, she added, "Did Cameron Kim seen to notice anything? I realize the middle of a frenetic free-for-all might not be the place from which to get the best view, or the best time to try to keep secrets."

"The Knight called the Key a 'her' a few seconds before she leaped out," Dr. Vaughn said. "Which narrows it down --"

"It narrows it down to Willow, Anya, and Dawn," Daria said, "And she isn't stupid."

"No, she isn't," Dr. Vaughn said. "By now, it should be obvious to her who it is. The only reason I can think of that she hasn't done anything about it is that she doesn't want to."

"I hope you're right," Daria said. "Still, one of us should bring that up to Buffy the first chance we get. The last thing we need is someone else trying to kill us."

"It won't be us she'd try to kill," the psychiatrist said. "And I don't think she would."

"I agree that she seems like basically a decent person. But remember her ethical structure is geared primarily towards living up to the terms of her contract. She promised to give us warning if she was ordered to kill Dawn. I believe she will live up to that contact. I also believe she will live up to the first one, whether she personally wants to or not." Daria looked over at Jane and Trent, who seemed to be in at least somewhat better shape. She decided it was time to go try to talk to them.

She didn't get the chance to talk to either one of them, at least not right then. Buffy called over to Dr. Vaughn, "Are they okay to move?"

"I think so," she said. "But someone'll have to carry Willow."

"I'll do it," Daria said quietly. "At the very least, maybe it should make clear to her that I'm not just here to rescue her girlfriend."

"Your colleagues had better have been right about that not being ricin," Buffy told Mack the Knight.

"He is," he said. "I don't know what it means to you, but you have my word on that." Then he actually grinned. "Besides, Jane knows where I live if she isn't okay."

"We'll find you," Buffy said coldly. "Don't worry about that." At that point, Giles came out of the woods.

"I ran across the Knight," he said, "And prevented him from searching the woods any further. Dawn had enough of a head start that I couldn't catch up with her -- and she wouldn't respond to my calls, either."

A voice from where they entered the clearing said, breathing heavily, "That's because I'm right here."

"How --" Giles asked as he walked over.

"The trail circles around," she said. "I took a look at the park map as we walked in and just kept running."

"And ran all the way around to here?" Buffy said, frowning. "What if there'd still been a battle going on?"

She shrugged. "Cameron Kim told me there wasn't -- I ran into her on my way here. I didn't see any reason she'd lie to me." She looked at the field. Xander was just getting to his feet, leaning on Anya unsteadily, but Willow was still unconscious. Are they --?"

"They should be fine," Buffy said. "Now," she said to the conscious Knights. "Here's the way this is going to go. Note to all Knights: This is not open for debate, discussion, or diverse viewpoints. First: If any of you didn't hear what I said to young Mack here: This is the third time the Knights of Byzantium have tried to kill me and mine. If there is a fourth, there will not be a fifth. I don't know how many of you Ren-Faire rejects there are in the world, but I will wipe you off the face of the Earth. Is this clear to everyone?"

Mack said yes; three others muttered something under their breath; and one said, "We will never surrender to--"

Buffy closed her eyes briefly and said, "Will someone tell this bozo to shut up?"

"None can silence me," the man said shrilly. "I will fight until --" he collapsed to the grass, unconscious.

"Until someone hits you in the back of the head with the butt end of a flail? Interesting. I wouldn't have thought even that would shut you up," Daria said. "Just goes to show: You really do learn something new every day."

"Let's try that answer again once more, with feeling," Buffy said. "_Is this clear to everyone_?"

"You don't need to pretend that you're enthusiastic about it," Daria said. "You just need to say yes."

A grumbling and muffled yes was heard from the rest of the conscious Knights. "Good," Buffy said firmly. "Now. Stay put while we collect your weapons. Any of you whose weapons aren't already lying on the ground, if you would place them there now. Daria, Giles, if you would --"

As the Knights put down their remaining swords, maces, and flails, Daria and Giles gathered them up. The fifteen Knights had maybe two dozen weapons, and that wasn't counting the darts they'd thrown at Willow and Tara. Giles and Daria dumped them at Buffy's feet; she bundled them up as best she could, "borrowing" some of the Knight's clothes to serve as ropes. "Good," Buffy said, picking up one of the darts. "And if there's any more nonsense with these things, I'll consider that the fourth time."

"Understood," Mack said.

"Okay, everyone," Buffy said, sounding more like a general than ever. "Let's get out of here." She picked up the armload of weapons, telling Daria, "If you could--?" while gesturing with her head towards the hammer.

Daria turned and handed Dr. Vaughn the flail. "It seems my hands are going to be full," she said. In the meantime, Xander gently pulled clear of Anya and began to walk down the trail. Daria first picked up Willow -- putting her over her right shoulder -- and then bent down to get the hammer.

Tara said, "Um --"

"I have her. Don't worry," Daria said. "I have absolutely no intention of dropping her or letting anything hurt her." Daria made sure to keep any trace of sarcasm out of her voice.

"Thank you," Tara said.

"I would, however, like to be the one to tell her that I was the one who rescued her when she wakes up."

"Oh," Tara said. "So, so you _want_ her head to explode."

"Not explode. Maybe puff up a little."

"I need to apologize for her," Tara said.

"No. You don't. The only person anyone needs to apologize for is themselves. And you've not only done nothing to offend me, you've been consistently nice to me. If Willow chooses to dislike me, she can do so."

"I, I think she's actually, um, jealous of you," Tara said. "Not, you know, like she thinks I'm attracted to you or anything. It seems like every time I need to be saved recently, you've been the one to do it. I think there's a part of her who thinks that it's her job to do that."

"If she brings it up again," Daria said. "Ask her if she'd prefer me not to save you next time."

"I'll do that," Tara said.

"In the meantime, as I said, I don't care if she or Spike hate my guts and get together to call me nasty names behind my back. As long as it doesn't spill over into when we're doing something important. I don't necessarily want people to like me. I just want them to treat me fairly. Yes, I realize that's a pipe dream. But one must have goals, even if they are, occasionally, unattainable." She caught site of the Lane siblings. "And now, if you'll excuse me--"

Then, making sure not to jostle Willow, she walked over to join them. Trent looked as though his eyes had long since popped out of his head, and he was too stunned to actually go looking for them.

Jane, on the other hand, looked as though she'd fully processed what was going on, and was eagerly looking forward to talking about it. "So," she said. "Is it always like this?"

"No," Daria said. "Sometimes we actually have to do some work."

Jane snorted, while Trent just moved along mechanically. "I think you broke my brother."

"I'm not broken, Janey," Trent said. "I'm feeling my worldview change, and it's kind of painful when it happens this quickly. But it's nothing I haven't gone through before." He paused, then added, "So. The world's really like this." He didn't say it as though it were a question. "There really are Knights, and magic, and wereleopards, and chicks with superhuman strength." Daria nodded anyway. "Might make a good song cycle. I've been thinking the Spiral could do a concept album."

Jane laughed.

"It's not just that," Daria said, "There are also demons and vampires. That's what Buffy and I are supposed to do: kill vampires. I can give you the whole history later, if you're interested. Believe me, it took a while for me to get my head around it. It's understandable that you're having difficulty grasping it all at once."

Trent said, "Actually, it explains a lot."


	35. Jealousy

Author's Note: A breather, this chapter. But I think they're entitled. In the meantime, I am building to a showdown.

Disclaimer: The _Daria _characters were created by Glenn Eichler, the _Buffy_ characters by Joss Whedon, and the original ones by me.

X X X X X

Buffy knocked on the back door of the van -- "Who is it?" Spike asked.

"Knights of Byzantium!" Buffy said. "We're here to murder you!"

"Ha ha," Spike's muffled voice came through the door -- "Alright. Go ahead." She then opened the door, after which Daria gently laid Willow down in the back. Spike scowled. "What happened to Red?"

"Knights hit her with a dart," Buffy said. "Dr. Vaughn says she should be okay, though."

"Anyone else hurt?" Everyone else who came in the SUV was getting back into it. The Lane siblings and Tara gathered around the van.

"Xander got hit on the back of the head," Daria said. "Also, and more importantly, a lot of Knights will be nursing bruises and broken limbs."

"But nothing happened to you?" Spike asked.

"I can sense your disappointment."

"If you could knock off the banter," Buffy said. "I need to dump these --" The pile of weapons came into the van next to Willow. Daria started to hand Olaf's Hammer back to her, but Buffy said, "Hold on," and peeled one of the swords off the top of the pile.

"What's your thinking?" Daria asked.

"My thinking is that we don't want them following us," Buffy said. Then she went over to the Knights' SUVs and began slashing their tires. When she got back to the van, she put the sword back in and said, "Now I'll take the hammer?"

"Why?" Daria asked. "Are you planning to smash in their windshields?" The tone in her voice was amused and approving, though. At least Buffy thought it was; you couldn't always quite tell, with Daria.

"You slashed their tires?" Spike asked as Tara climbed into the back of the van. Buffy nodded and Spike laughed. "Good goin', love. Did you think to swipe their cell phones, too?"

"No point," Buffy said. "There's got to be a phone inside the center over there, and it's still open. Still, this should slow them down enough for us to get to Lawndale." She clapped her hands. "Okay! Everyone in! I want to be as far ahead of them as possible. Trent --"

"Yeah?"

"I realize we've asked a lot of you, but if you could lead us to Lawndale, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure," he said. "But I still want the whole story. I'm thinking of writing a concept album about it."

Buffy blinked, turned around, and climbed into the back of the SUV, squeezing past the second row of seats.

"Slashing tires?" Lynette Vaughn asked from the driver's seat.

"Anything to slow them down," Buffy said.

"I'm not disapproving of what you did," the psychiatrist said. "I might have tried to be a little more subtle about it -- I probably would have tinkered under the hood -- but that's a matter of style, not substance."

"Me and things mechanical don't exactly get along very well together," Buffy said. "Especially cars."

"Then I'd think you'd want to tinker beneath the hoods of their cars."

Xander said, "No. If she _tried_ to break something, she'd probably wind up souping up their engines. The rule when driving with Buffy is, don't let her drive. Ever. Actually, it's keep her as far from the steering wheel as possible. If there was a fourth row of seats, we'd put her back there."

"She can't be that bad," Dr. Vaughn said.

"Oh, she's not," Anya said. "She's worse."

"Much as I hate to join in the piling on," Giles said from the front passenger seat, "I'm forced to agree. Dawn and Xander would be better suited to drive this vehicle than Buffy."

"Dawn's what? 15?" Dr. Vaughn said. "And Xander probably has a mild concussion --"

"My point," Giles said, "Stands."

Buffy opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again, because honestly, what was the point? Maybe some day she'd be able to master the fine art of driving, but for the moment, if she needed to go somewhere, she was either going to have to have someone else drive her, or hoof it.

Xander, thankfully, changed the subject. "So how did the Lanes take the battle?"

"You could never tell that Jane Lane had just had a sword-wielding maniac threaten to slit her throat," Buffy said. "As for Trent, he seems to have gotten past his initial shock. The last thing I heard, he was planning to write a concept album about the experience."

"You can't let him do that," Giles said.

"I know, no more giving up the secrets of the Slayer --"

"That's not it," Giles interrupted. "It's just -- concept albums." He shuddered. "They were a horrible idea back in the 1970s and time hasn't improved them in the least."

"I'm sure we can convince him not to commit a crime against music," Buffy said wryly. "Xander? How's your head?"

"It only hurts when I think," Xander said. He had to know it was a straight line.

"So you're pretty much okay?"

"Yup."

After a minute or two of silence -- they were back on what appeared to be a main road -- Lynette Vaughn asked, "What next?"

"What's next is Lawndale, followed by sleep," Buffy said. "We've been in three major fights in the last two and a half days, and gotten less than one full night of sleep. Daria and me have probably gotten even less. I know Glory's plane has probably landed by now, I know we need to be ready for her, but right now we're running on fumes. We might not have time for a full eight hours, but if we don't get _some_ sleep we might as well just surrender the next time we see her for all the good we're going to be in fighting her."

"You realize the Lane house isn't safe," Giles said.

"Unfortunately, yeah," Buffy said. "Mack the Knight knows where Jane lives. I'm counting him to be decent where they're concerned, but I'm still not going to trust him where we're concerned." She paused, then added, "I'd keep going if we could, but right now we don't have a choice. We have to sack out somewhere in Lawndale. We haven't left Glory a trail to follow this time, and Lawndale is a good forty miles from BWI. She'll probably find us eventually, but at least we have some lead time on both her and the Knights."

"Speaking of which --"

"I meant every word I said," Buffy said. "I don't plan on killing them, but I will find a way to destroy the organization if they get in our way again. The bastards have been draining our energy more and more with every fight. Xander might have a concussion, Giles still has an injured shoulder, Willow's unconscious, and Daria and I are flat out exhausted. We need to save something for the big gun when she shows up."

"If she shows up, right, Buff?" Xander said.

"I wish," Buffy said. "But no. When. We just need to be ready."

X X X X X

Faith came to once again in the back of Trent Lane's van. "We're not in for any more shit, are we?"

"No," Jane Lane said, "Daria just said she wanted 'to let you out to romp and play" for a while."

Faith laughed, "Sounds like DM, all right." She looked towards the back of the van and saw Willow still apparently unconscious. :How's Red?"

"Awake," Willow said groggily. "And with a headache that would kill a moose."

"Oh, good. You still look kinda out of it."

"That's because of the headache," Willow said. "I feel like I just woke up after a long night of getting drunk, only without the fun part of actually getting drunk."

"You? Drunk?"

"Yes. Me. Drunk. I've consumed alcohol to the point of near oblivion on a couple of occasions. Don't act so shocked."

"Come a long way in the last few years, haven't you, Red? Switchin' teams, drinkin' to excess. No offense intended." Tara didn't seem offended. She couldn't tell about Willow, Spike was making a point of staring at the van wall, and Jane just seemed amused by the whole thing.

"Yes," Willow said. "I have. What's your point?"

"You've changed. I've changed. Think about who you were two years ago, and who I was."

"I didn't go from evil to good."

"You went from a male werewolf to a female witch. Change is change."

Tara said, "Not, not that I don't think the conversation needs to happen, but does it need to be now?"

"Yeah," Spike said. "Some of us would rather be somewhere else."

"I'll open the back door and you can jump out," Faith said. "Yeah, it needs to be now, 'cause right now you're sort of a captive audience. You've still been treatin' DM like a pariah and it needs to stop. Earlier I said I didn't give a shit if you hated me. I think I'm gonna have to change my mind on that one. 'cause you hatin' me is causin' you to take it out on her. Like actin' all jealous when she keeps savin' Tara."

"Jealous?" Willow asked. "I hardly think of Daria as 'competition.'"

"That's not the only meaning of the fuckin'' word," Faith said. "Jealous: You should be the one savin' Tara, not this newcomer who looks like that bitch you've hated for the last two years for all the shit she did to you and yours. Yes? No?"

A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. "You really are smarter than I thought," Willow said, non-hostilely. "Yes. It shouldn't be you."

"It isn't."

Another chuckle. "My brain gets it. My emotions still have some catching up to do."

"They can start by simply gettin' that I ain't who I used to be any more than you are," Faith said. And, to give Willow time to process it, she added, "Shoulda seen your girl out there. She was swattin' away those darts like she was possessed. Musta taken out two Knights all on her own."

Tara said, "It wasn't that spectacular. Really."

From the driver's seat, Trent Lane said, "Don't sell your self short. I saw what you did. Pretty awesome."

"So you're okay with the whole magic thing now?" Faith asked.

"Doesn't matter if I'm okay with it or not," Trent said. "It is what it is. It's not going to go away if I stick my head in the sand."

Faith nodded. "Good attitude to have." Then she looked around. "We got that book around here anywhere?"

Tara rummaged around for a second and handed her the copy of _Watchmen_. "Here."

"_Watchmen_?" Jane said.

"You read it? DM and me kinda got a seminar goin' on it, but it'd be nice to talk about it with someone outside my own head."

Jane said, "I've read it. Of course, being who I am, I pay more attention to the art than the words." She smiled. "Actually kind of cool. Picked up a lot of details that way." Then she frowned. "Of course, I missed out on half the storyline, too."

"As long as you caught the symmetry of the one chapter."

"Caught it? It hit me over the head."

"I've read it too," Willow said wearily.

"So? You willin' to talk about it with us?"

"Yes," Willow said. "It might be a good place to start letting my emotions catch up."

"Cool. Now, if you'll excuse me, I wanna see if I can get through the next couple of chapters in -- how long before we get to Lawndale and I have to disappear again?"

"We've just passed the exit from Interstate 795," Jane said. "From here it's about a half hour."

"Plenty of time, then." She settled down to reread part 6.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus was pissed. Unusually for her, this did not mean that her immediate surroundings were undergoing some impromptu redecorating, or that people and minions were running for their lives.

At least, not yet it didn't. But give her a few minutes and she might change her mind. At least she wasn't hungry; at least, she'd fed to the point where draining anyone else wasn't doing her mind's structure any good. Ben wasn't trying to take over, but his damned conscience and thoughts were still interfering with hers.

The minions were still being smart enough to stay out of her way. Dammit.

No, what she was angry about was that the trail seemed to have disappeared the second they got to Baltimore.

It had almost been enough to get her killing people until someone told her what she needed to know, but she was holding back. Not because of Benjy's conscience, and not because Doc wanted her to keep a low profile. No, it was because there wasn't a point to it. There were thousands of people in the airport, and while killing them might have worked out some of her rage issues, chances were that's all she'd be doing. Because, really, what was the point in threatening to pull people's intestines out through their ears if they wouldn't be able to tell Glory what she needed to know?

So she sat in one of the BWI waiting areas, glaring at any minion, or human, for that matter, who dared to get too close to her, while Doc tried to find out where they'd all gone.

"I apologize, Divine One," he'd said, "For not being able to use my magic to track them down. But for now I need to hold most of it in abeyance for the ritual of your return. What little I can spare is at your disposal. It's not enough for a tracking spell, but I should be able to use it to help locate your Key."

And he'd gone off, leaving her just sitting there getting angrier and angrier.

It was an hour later, and Glory was just about ready to give in to her 'kill them all until someone tells me where my freakin' key is' urge when Doc finally came back.

"Well?" she snapped.

"I apologize for the delay, Divine One, but it couldn't be helped. However, I have at least managed to get a good idea where the Slayer and her friends are going."

"And that would be? Let me give you a clue, Doc: Don't draw this out. I'm not remotely close to being in the mood."

"Not my intent," Doc said. "In any event, using a few minor charms and glamours, I've managed to find out that they're most likely heading for a town somewhere north of here called Lawndale."

"Why the hell would they go there?"

Doc shrugged. "I honestly don't know. But some of them were driven away in a van owned by someone who lives in the town. At the very least, it should be a good place to start."

"Well, then, let's get going. If she's still in Lawndale, we'll find her if we have tear the city down around her ear." Then she looked at Doc. "Were you going to say anything?"

"Not a word, Divine One," the sorcerer said.


	36. Welcome to Lawndale

In Daria continuity, Lawndale had a mall called Cranberry Commons. The Cranberry Mall is a real mall. It was that coincidence plus Glenn Eichler's comment that Lawndale could possibly be a suburb of Baltimore that led me to pick the location I did for Lawndale.

To be more specific: Lawndale occupies the area that in our world is taken by Westminster, MD. Which is not _quite_ a suburb of Baltimore, but is close enough.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the Buffy characters; Glenn Eichler created the Daria characters; I created the original characters and the plot.

X X X X X

"And here we are," Jane said, "The outskirts of Lawndale. To our right is the beautiful Cranberry Mall. Formerly known as Cranberry Commons and, simply, the Lawndale Mall. And that is the sum total of my knowledge of the place. I've been in the building about as many times as it has names. Of course, you're in the back of the van, so you can't see it. You're just going to have to trust me. For all you know, we could be in Oz."

"Naah," Faith said, noticing Willow wince slightly at the name. Her eyes were open, but everyone thought it was best that she stay lying down until they got to their destination. "We'd've heard the winged monkeys by now." Then she added, "And you might not want to use that as an example. Red's ex was named Oz."

Jane said, "Odd name for a girl."

"It would be, if he was," Faith said. "But no. Oz was a guy. Also in a band like your brother there."

"Was he good?" Trent asked.

Willow said, "He was amazing."

"Hmmm. Wonder if his group and the Spiral ever crossed paths."

"Probably not," Willow said. "Dingoes Ate My Baby stayed on the west coast."

"Hmmm. Darn. I always like talking to other guitarists."

Jane said, "You like talking?"

"On rare occasions."

Faith felt the van turn right. "And now we're leaving route 140 and heading back into the wilds of Lawndale suburbia," Jane said. "Please. No pictures. They disturb the natives."

Faith smiled, and kept reading _Watchmen_. She was finished the chapter on Rorschach and was skimming through the next one.

Despite her offbeat intro to Jane and Trent Lane, they seemed to be taking things in stride, more or less. They seemed to have more in common with the wolfboy than just him and Trent both being guitarists.

Which was good. Last thing they needed right now is a couple of people running around like lunatics.

Of course, seeing that the Knights of Byzantium, a hellgod and her minions, and they themselves were already out there running around, chances were no one would even notice another few lunatics. Still, nice to see that not everyone took a look at reality and chose to blind themselves. She could see what DM liked about the girl.

"Over to our left," Jane said, "Is Degas Street. Home of the hippest people in Lawndale. Just ask them." Then, "It's also the home of a club where my brother plays sometimes, so I have occasionally been known to go there. Estimated time to Casa Lane: Ten minutes. Please make sure your tray tables are in their upright and locked positions and that all edged weapons and practicing witches have been firmly secured. And as always, thank you for flying Lane Air."

"Yo, stewardess," Faith said. "I didn't get my peanuts."

Jane said, "Sorry, all out."

"How about blood?" Spike said.

"That, we have some of. But we're using it right now."

"Never stopped me before."

"Spike," Tara said, "Stop teasing them."

"Right," Spike said. "Not going to eat you. Couldn't if I wanted to. I am kind of hungry, though. And since I'm on this forcible temperance kick where humans are concerned, any chance there's a butcher shop hereabouts?"

"Hmmm," Jane said. "I could've sworn I saw you eating something on the plane."

Spike said, "I was. Just because my body's built to survive on blood doesn't mean I don't like the taste of other things. But they don't do these rumblings in my stomach a bit of good."

"No butcher shops," Jane said. "Sorry."

Spike swore to himself.

"We'll track something down for you, Spike," Willow said tiredly. "If for no other reason than we want you to be at full strength if Glory tracks us down."

"To our right," Jane said. "Is a small shopping center containing the best pizza place on the east coast: The Pizza King. Don't let the generic name fool you. They really are pizza royalty. Now, I heard they were creating dukes and duchesses. But that could be just a rumor."

"You're a big pizza fan?" Faith asked. Jane nodded. "So's DM. Sounds like a place you need to take her."

"Okay," Jane said. "Now I really have to paint you."

"Not gettin' the connection here, Laney."

If Faith's new nickname for Jane bugged her, she didn't show it. "It's just that you and Daria are so different, yet you're the same person. It's fascinating."

"Yeah. It's also not something anyone else needs to be knowin' about. The state of California sorta thinks I don't exist anymore, remember?" She wasn't offended by Jane thinking of her and DM as artistic subjects, any more than it bugged her that Trent Lane wanted to write music about it. Jane clearly liked DM, and she was being nice enough to Faith.

"Hmmm. Good point. Still, it's a painting, and it's by me. Much as in my wild fantasies I imagine my works shocking the world, the only showing I've been able to get in the last six months was across the country, at an art gallery now being run by someone whose only thought about art is how much money they can make off of it. Don't get me wrong. If someone offered me several thousand dollars for one of my works, I'd take it. Hell, if they wanted to give me a coupon for ten dollars off a massage, I'd take _that._ I'm not picky. Anyway, my point is, people, when they bother looking at paintings at all, don't look at them as absolute representations of the real world. If you don't want me to, I won't. Just give it some thought."

"I will. Assumin' we survive the next two days," Faith said. "How close are we to your house, Laney?"

"Two minutes."

Faith flipped _Watchmen_ closed. Someday she and DM would get to finish the thing. Hell, she might even not mind talking it over with Laney and Red. "Then I gotta get goin'. Laney, Trent: Nice talkin' with you. But Trent, man: You gotta stop monopolizin' the conversation."

Trent said, "Yeah, I know. I can be verbose."

Faith smiled. "Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

"Ah," Daria said. "I would guess that we're within shouting distance of the Lane residence?"

"Yes," Jane said. "Though I would prefer you not shout. We've already been fined three times for violating the noise ordinances." She glared at Trent.

"Hey, we gotta play that loud during a sound check. Otherwise we don't know how we're going to come across on stage."

"Daria," Willow said.

Daria turned. "Good. You're awake and alive. How are you feeling?"

"You actually sound like you meant that," Willow said. There was a tone in her voice Daria couldn't quite place. It didn't sound as hostile as her words were coming across, so she decided to let it go for the moment.

"I do. Just because you and I don't appear to be getting along doesn't mean I actually wish you ill."

"I know," Willow said. "I can't say you've been nothing but nice to me, but you have made an attempt to be reasonably civil, and while I've lived up to the letter of our agreement we made in Tara's room back in Sunnydale, I haven't lived up to the spirit. For this, I apologize." She sounded sincere.

"I accept," Daria said. Daria could be obstreperous when she thought it was justified, but Willow was clearly attempting to make amends, and it would have been churlish of Daria not to accept.

"Actually," Willow said. "Faith said that you and she were discussing _Watchmen_. I've read it. Maybe . . . we could talk about it, too."

"I would have no objection to that," Daria said. She was willing to talk about intellectual issues, but she rarely found people willing to talk about them. If Willow wanted to talk _Watchmen_, then they'd talk _Watchmen_. If nothing else, it might make things more genuinely stress-free between them.

"And here we are at the fabulous Casa Lane," Jane said. "Please keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle until Trent has hit the side of the house and come to a complete stop."

"Hey," Trent said. "That only happened once. And I wasn't even driving."

"So you say. Personally, I think Jesse was just taking the fall for you. I know the way you musicians operate, buddy boy." Then, to Spike. "Will you be able to make it to the house?"

"I'm damn well gonna try," Spike said. "I'd like to actually be able to stand up. Just give me a clear path to the door."

""Okay," Daria said. "Remember. Outside the confines of this van, no one knows that Faith still exists, okay? Not that I've pegged the two of you as likely to go to the media --" Daria stopped as she noticed Jane tapping her chest. "I'm sorry. Is it about to fall off?"

"No, just making sure the microphone's working." Jane said. "So, that was 'Faith still exists.' Keep going."

Trent turned off the car, and the Lane siblings, Daria, and Tara got out. Behind them, everyone was already out of their rental SUV.

Buffy came up to them. "Okay. Now, we're only going to stay here long enough to stretch our legs and find a decent hotel."

Jane said, "So nothing that charges by the hour, huh? Darn. There go the four-star establishments."

"Will," Buffy said. "Good to see you up, if not exactly about. You need a boost getting in?"

"Only one way to find out," Willow said, and sat up. Tara was over by her side, and Lynette Vaughn came over as well.

The psychiatrist said, "Careful when you get up. If you feel dizzy or lightheaded --"

"No," Willow said. "I've got a severe headache, but that's about it. Any idea what they shot me with?"

"As long as it wasn't bullets, I'm calling it an up side," Daria said.

More seriously, Dr. Vaughn said, "Well, yes, there is that. But if you develop any other symptoms, let me know immediately. Now, are you ready to try to stand up?"

Willow nodded, then winced. She edged to the back of the van until her legs were dangling off; then, with Tara on one arm and Dr. Vaughn on the other, she got out. Then she blinked several times and shaded her eyes. "It's a bit bright, too," she said. "But I don't feel like I'm about to fall down."

Dr. Vaughn backed off, and said, "Are we going inside?"

"Yeah," Buffy said. "That is, if it's okay with the Lane siblings."

"Naah," Jane said. "Stay in the driveway. You're a nice, visible target that way."

"Dumb question?"

"Not really. But then, I'm grading on a curve, and basing it on the people I knew in high school. I think maybe three or four people in my class actually had a brain in their head. Once you've heard someone ask why they got knocked down a grade for misspelling their own name for the fifth time, it's kind of hard to judge ordinary dumb questions."

Bemused, Buffy simply turned to everyone and said, "Take a breather, but remember, we're not staying here. Spike --"

"I've already settled things with Daria and the Lanes," Spike said. "I've been cooped up in the back of this bloody van for long enough. Clear a path and let me run."

"Jane," Buffy said. "If you would --"

Jane nodded and went over to open her front door. As Spike inched closer to the back of the van, Daria said, "Don't trip." She felt no obligation to be nice to Spike, as Spike was only refraining from insulting her under pain of having Dr. Vaughn reduce him to his component atoms.

Spike flashed her a dirty look, put his duster over his head, and yelled, "Say when!"

He easily made it inside.

Everyone else followed him in.

It was a more or less typical suburban house, albeit one that looked like it got cleaned irregularly and hadn't gotten new furniture since sometime in the Reagan administration. But then, given what Jane had told her, they were lucky to have even that much. Jane's parents had provided sporadic financial support and even more sporadic emotional support.

Still, it was a house and it was inside.

"We'd offer you something to eat," Jane said. "Only I'm not sure what we have at the moment. Lots of ramen soup, some beer. No blood. Sorry, Spike," Jane said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

"None I can tap, anyway," Spike said. "Any chance you have any newly dead corpses around here?"

"Nope; I haven't quite made it to my serial killer phase yet," Jane said. "Maybe next week."

"How about something for a headache?" Willow said.

"A sledgehammer to the back of the skull," Jane said. Willow glared at her. "Oh. You meant to get rid of a headache. Sure, we have some aspirin upstairs. I'll go get it. In the meantime, help yourself to all the water you can drink."

"Can I have a beer, at least?"

"Sure," Trent said. "It's not very good beer, but it's beer."

"At this point I'd settle for ripple," Spike said, walking towards the kitchen. "Anyone else?"

"I'll take one," Giles said.

"You drink beer?" Buffy said. "I'd have at least figured you for a solid pint of Guinness."

"And if there were any around, I'd drink it," Giles said. "In the meantime, if I have to make do with --" he looked down at the can Spike was handing him and gave an involuntary shudder -- "Old Milwaukee, so be it."

Right then the phone rang. After three rings, Trent said, "Oh, right. My house," and went to answer it.

A couple of seconds later, he said, "Um, the voice at the other end says he wants to talk to a Slayer?"

Daria and Buffy looked at each other. "Heads or tails?" Buffy said.

"I'll take it," Daria said. "I have to get used to people thinking of me as that, after all." She went and took the phone from Trent. "Lane residence. Slayer speaking," she said.

"You didn't have to slash our tires," came the voice at the other end of the phone.

"Ah. This would be a Knight of Byzantium, then."

"Yeah. I'm the one who knows Jane. This is Mack."

Daria said, "For what it's worth, I _didn't_ slash your tires."

"If not you, someone in your party did."

"I never claimed otherwise. And if you expect us to apologize for trying to slow down what seems to be an inexorable pursuit, I can guarantee you you'll be waiting a long time."

Mack said, "But that's just it. We weren't going to pursue you. You pretty much crippled us. There probably aren't five Knights left in full fighting trim." A note of harshness entered his voice. "So you'd better be damn sure you can defeat the Beast when she shows up."

"We will be," Daria said. "If nothing else, we'll -- what's that?" There was an odd noise from the other end of the phone. "Mack? Hello?"

"Sorry," a harsh female voice said suddenly. "He can't come to the phone right now. Or ever."

Holy crap. It was Glory.

"But he was right about one thing," she said. "You shouldn't have slashed their tires."


	37. Welcome Home

Author's Note: Almost painted myself into a corner at the end of that last part. Thanks to my friend Sarah for helping me figure out a way out of it.

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine, except for Cameron Kim and Lynette Vaughn.

X X X X X

Sometimes, even the Divine Glorificus needed a bit of luck, which was exactly what she'd gotten in the last hour.

And it was about freaking damn time, too. Time the universe went her way for a change. The Slayer had led her on a chase clear across the stupid country to get her Key; oh, what she'd do when she caught up with that girl -- but anyway, they'd been driving -- oh, alright ,a minion had been driving, like the Divine Glorificus would ever deign to touch a steering wheel -- with the minions packed into a couple of rented vans following them, heading towards the city of Lawndale, Maryland, when Doc had said, "Divine One, we're going to need to stop."

"When I'm this close?"

"I beg your pardon, Divine One, but I need to maintain my concentration. And though I only look human, I share some of their weaknesses. Such as one to a certain side effect of caffeine, for instance."

"And that would mean in language the rest of us can understand?" Glory'd asked.

"I need to use a restroom."

Grumblingly, she told the minion to pull off the interstate and find the nearest place that looked like it had a bathroom. "Hell," she'd said. "Pull over if you find a big enough tree for Doc to hide behind."

And it was just the bit of luck they needed that the minion had driven to a gas station, rather than finding the tree. Because when Doc emerged from the building -- like Glory was going to so much as set one foot on a gas station parking lot -- he said, "I smell something."

"It's a gas station. So my guess would be gasoline."

"True, divine one, but hardly worth bringing to your attention. I would hardly disturb you simply for that. No. It's a familiar smell. Someone I've smelled before." He stopped. "It's the Key. She was here."

"How do you know?"

"I never forget a smell," Doc said. "Her scent is definitely here. It's weak, but definitely present. I don't smell the vampire, but then, he almost certainly couldn't get out of whatever vehicle they were driving."

"Can you follow it?" Glory asked.

"Not while hanging my head out a window, no," Doc said. "And while she was definitely here, she left in a vehicle -- and _that_ scent I can't track."

"Damn," Glory said. Then a thought occurred to her. "Hey. You know what? I just remembered something. You're not the only one around here who can cast spells. I did a tracking spell myself back in the fall. It worked too, but the damn snake never got back to me. I found it dead a half mile from my penthouse the next morning. The Slayer killed it, I'm sure. And after all that work I put into it. Grrr."

"And, divine one, you're hoping we can do the same thing here," Doc said.

"Damn skippy," Glory said. "So?"

"The difficulty, divine one," Doc said. "Is that the first spell took you quite a bit of preparation, and access to books and materials we don't have here. Unless one of the minions happens to have a live cobra hidden in their robes?"

"It wouldn't surprise me what those morons have in their robes," Glory said. "But I didn't actually ask them to bring along a cobra." After a second, she went on, "Still, you have to be able to come up with _something_."

Doc thought for a couple of minutes, while minions traipsed in and out of the store, getting whatever the hell it was minions got. Finally, he said, "There is one tracking spell you should be able to do with the materials we have on hand."

"Sounds good. So why don't you sound that enthusiastic? Does the spell give you zits, or something?" As if Glory would do such a spell.

"Nothing so serious," Doc said, smiling. "But you can only do it once a month, and none of the minions would have the ability, and I --"

Glory said wearily, "You have to save your strength for the ritual, yeah, I got that the first dozen times you told me. Well, it's not like we have a choice at this point. We know they went to Lawndale, but we don't have time to go through every freaking house trying to track them down. So, tell me how to do the spell."

"One moment, divine one," Doc said, and went inside the store. A couple minutes later, he came back with a bottle of some kind of soda, and pack of cigarettes.

"You're _not_ going to smoke those things," Glory said firmly. She hated the smell.

"No, I'm not. Neither are you. This is what we're going to be using to trace the Key. Now that we know she was here, we use it to follow her. Here's what you need to do." He explained the ritual. "Okay. Sounds good. How long does it last?"

"Only about an hour, divine one," Doc said. "That should be enough time."

"Good. Minions!" she called out. "Get to the vans and get ready to follow us."

As the minions scurried to do as she said, she and Doc got into their car. Glory concentrated, said a couple of magic words, and lit the cigarette.

Then she threw it out the window. It floated there, waiting for her to tell it where to go. "Follow the trail of the Key," she said.

The cigarette flew off, and the cars scrambled to follow it.

It took the divine Glorificus 25 minutes and a dozen cigarettes, but the trail ended up at what looked like a park.

A park. Well, this was just freakin' great. Figures the Slayer would go here. Now she had to go tramping about the woods in her heels, which would just _ruin_ them. Well, she could have the minions carry her, but she didn't trust them not to drop her.

But her luck held. A group of men were standing around a couple of SUVS with slashed tires. Sucked to be them, she thought. One of them was on the phone whining about it to someone.

Then Glory heard what she said. "We weren't going to pursue you. You pretty much crippled us. There probably aren't five Knights left in full fighting trim. So you'd better be damn sure you can defeat the Beast when she shows up."

She almost laughed. These were Knights of Byzantium. Twice in two days. How lucky could one goddess get?

And she felt pretty strong now. Strong enough to take out these losers without breaking a sweat, or a nail, which was more important.

She stepped out of the car at the word "Beast," which was the Knights' stupid nickname for her. Like she was a beast. Really. Were beasts as fabulous as she was?

She thought not.

And they couldn't kill Knights this quickly, either. Within five seconds -- before any of the Knights could even react -- they were all dead but one, the one who'd been on the phone. She threw him to the ground unconscious. Had to have someone to interrogate when this was all over.

At the other end she heard someone say, "Mack? Hello?"

It was the new girl. The one who'd saved the blonde chickie back when Glory'd thought she was the Key, rather than the Slayer's little sis.

"Sorry," Glory said. "He can't come to the phone right now. Or ever." Because once she was done asking him questions, he was pretty much a dead man anyway. Or maybe he'd be food. Glory hadn't decided yet. "But," she went on, "He was right about one thing. You shouldn't have slashed their tires."

"What did you do to them?"

Glory laughed. "What do you think I did, chica? I killed them. Just like I'm going to do to you, and all your friends, if you don't give me my frigging Key!"

She didn't get an answer from the other end of the phone. She hadn't really expected one.

No doubt they were panicking and running about like ants.

Let them run about. Glory had the young man's cell phone -- and, more importantly, the number he'd dialed to reach the woman at the other end.

That meant she knew where they were.

Close enough, anyway.

She smiled.

X X X X X

Buffy noticed Daria's hand signals, and ran over as she heard the other Slayer say, "What did you do to them?"

"What do you think I did, chica?" Glory's voice came. "I killed them."

Buffy gestured to Daria to hang up, and as she did so, Buffy turned to everyone else. "Change of plans!" She yelled.

"What?" Spike said.

"No one get comfortable," Buffy said. "Jane! Could you get down here, please?"

"What is it, Buffy?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

Jane came down the stairs and handed Willow her aspirin. "What's the hubbub, bub?" she asked.

"The hubbub is that that was Glory on the other end of the phone," Buffy said.

"How did she get this number?" Anya asked.

"She wasn't the one who initiated the call," Daria said. "It was Mack. Then, about thirty seconds into the conversation, he was abruptly replaced by Glory. And from the discussion, I'm guessing they were still at Soldier's Delight."

"That puts Glory within 25 miles," Giles said, alarmed. "We can't stay here."

"No," Buffy said. "We can't. Unfortunately, neither can they." She pointed to the Lane siblings.

"What?" Jane said.

After a second, Trent echoed her. "What do you mean?"

"She means that Glory has the cell phone that Mack used to call you. That means she has your phone number. Which means she's going to be here as soon as she can track down your home address."

"Exactly my thinking, Dawn," Buffy said.

Unexpectedly, Xander laughed. "Then I say it's not running away time, it's party time. Glory's a moron. She's Harmony with superhuman strength and a bad dye job."

"True, but she's not alone," Buffy said. "Back when she was in the Hyperion, when she turned into . . . ."

"Ben," Jane supplied.

"Right. Ben." It was easier for Buffy to make the connection now, but still, it had been a good idea of Daria's to have Jane learn to parrot the phrase. "Anyway, back then, a man with a pleasant voice took the phone away, and hung up a few seconds later. And if there's one thing Glory's minions don't have, it's pleasant voices."

"We're in no shape to confront her now," Giles said. "But we're in no shape to keep running, either. Most of us are running on adrenaline and caffeine."

"Jane, Trent," Dr. Vaughn asked. "We were going to ask about area hotels, but that would be the second place she'd look. Can you think of anywhere else?"

Trent answered after a few seconds. "What about that old spooky place a mile from here? You know, where the crazy woman supposedly lived?"

"How big is it?"

"Two stories. Said to be cursed. I don't believe in that kind of thing, really -- or, I suppose I should say, I didn't. So _Sick, Sad World_ was more of a documentary than I thought. Who knew? Anyway, the place Trent's thinking of was owned by a family who actually had a violent schizophrenic living there. Padded the walls of one of the bedrooms and everything. And then a family from out of the area bought the place and never showed up."

"And from that people think it's cursed?"

"That, and no one knows who really owns it at this point," Jane said. "It's actually in pretty good shape. The curse story keeps people away, for the most part."

"We don't have time to be picky. Jane, Trent, grab anything you have to have with you, and meet us outside. I want to be out of here within a couple of minutes."

"Hmm," Trent said. "Guess I'm gonna miss that gig tonight," and went upstairs. After a second, Jane followed her.

Buffy went outside to open the back of the van, and Spike sprinted from the house, never spilling a drop of the beer he was still holding. Everyone else followed, though Willow asked to ride in the SUV.

"It, it probably would be better for her," Tara said. Dr. Vaughn agreed.

"Fine," Buffy said. "I don't care where people want to ride. But anyone who's not inside one of the two in about thirty seconds is going to feel what it's like to ride on the roof. And, in case anyone's forgotten, Daria and I rode on the roof of the RV back in Kern County. Not an experience I'd recommend to anyone without a superhuman sense of balance."

Quickly the Lane driveway cleared of everyone but Buffy and Daria.

Xander and Anya had ended up switching with Willow and Tara.

"But if you think I'm riding on the floor of the van --" Anya said.

"The Lanes are driving," Daria said. "And I'm a Slayer. Spike can't sit down. You and your boyfriend can fight for it."

Xander said, "Let me forestall the inevitable 'Or you'll go without sex' threat by saying, Anya. Take the seat. I'll cuddle up to the vampire."

"Like hell you will," Anya and Spike said at the same time.

"Tell --" Buffy said, and then stopped.

"I will," Daria said. "Well, I'll have someone do it for me."

A minute later Jane Lane came down with a small bag, with what looked like pencils, pens, and a camera. "If I can't paint," she said, "I can at least sketch. And now I can take that picture of you, Daria. I also have this." She pulled something out of her bag.

"Another copy of _Watchmen_. Good," Daria said.

All Trent seemed to have was a guitar. "That's all you're bringing?" Buffy asked.

"All I need," Trent said. "We off?"

"Yes," Buffy said firmly.

And they were.

X X X X X

Faith came to in the back of the van again. "What the hell?" she asked.

"Glory found us," Xander said. "Faster than we expected." He went on to explain what was going on.

"Well, shit," Faith said when he was done. "Surprised we ain't headin' out."

"No choice," Xander said. "We have to get some rest. Looks like if there's going to be a final battle it's going to be here."

"Yes. We will likely all die soon. But good to meet you," Anya said.

Faith laughed.

Trent said, "We're almost there."

Faith said, "Well, then, time for me to skedaddle. Uranium in the drinking water."

X X X X X

They ended up parking the SUV a couple of blocks down the road; the van just fit into the garage.

Daria wasn't in it. She insisted on getting out as soon as she saw the house.

Jane, curious, followed her. "What is it?" she said.

"This is it," Daria said.

"It. A useful word, but hardly descriptive. What is this it to which you refer, Morgendorffer?"

"This. This is the house we were going to move into. This is the house I would have lived in when we moved to Lawndale."

"You're kidding," Jane said.

"Often. But not right now." After a second, she added, "It took me four years to get here. But I'm finally home."


	38. Rabbit, Run

Author's note: Re the characters at the end: Yes, it was shown that their futures were different on the TV show. But no Morgendorffers in Lawndale mean the universe changed.

Disclaimer: The Daria characters belong to Glenn Eichler, the Buffy characters to Joss Whedon, the original characters to me.

X X X X X

As Spike kicked in the door from the garage to the house, and everyone started taking their stuff inside, Buffy came up from where Dr. Vaughn had parked the SUV. "What's the holdup with going inside?" She asked Daria.

Daria explained that this was the house her family was going to move into, back in 1997, until Willard Jay Harbaugh and the Watcher's Council had derailed her life more or less permanently.

When she was done, Buffy frowned. "There are two things I don't believe in. Coincidence and leprechauns."

"Ah. So there won't be a pot of gold inside the house? Darn. I was looking forward to spending my newfound wealth." After a second, she added, "Though I suppose the rainbow would have been an unmistakable clue for Glory."

"I'm serious," Buffy said. "If we ended up here, it's for a reason."

Jane said, "I think I saw this episode."

Daria gave her a half-smile, then said to Buffy, "I doubt Glory has that much foresight. Or any foresight. Or that she even knows what the word means."

"I don't think it's her," Buffy said thoughtfully. "I'm pretty well convinced we've been the ones leading her around by the nose, not the other way around. Still, it won't hurt to have Will -- to have _Tara_ check this place out, see if there's anything magically wonky about it." Then she said, "In the meantime, let's get everyone inside and get that garage door closed. It's not going to be a successful hide if we're all out here in plain sight."

"True," Daria said, smiling faintly. "Though we might just confuse her."

They all went inside, Buffy shutting the garage door from the inside when they got there. "Okay," she said. "I realize this isn't the most ideal of circumstances. But we need sleep, and we need --"

"Food," Spike said.

Giles said, "Much as I hate to agree with Spike, I have no choice. If we're to attempt to hole up here until Glory's deadline has passed, we're going to need sustenance as well."

Everyone agreed. Buffy said, "Fine. You're right. Surgical strike. Trent --" she stopped when she say that Trent Lane had fallen asleep sitting against the wall. "Okay," she said dubiously.

"He's been out since you said the word sleep," Jane said. "That's just the way Trent is. If he doesn't get his fourteen hours, he's no good the next day."

"Fine. Dr. Vaughn, would you mind taking Jane and Daria and loading up on food? Try to be back here as fast as you can."

Jane said, "There's a grocery store near the Pizza King. We can pick up a few things there and be back within twenty minutes."

"Anything at the grocery store I can eat?" Spike said.

"No butcher shops and no convenient hemophiliacs," Jane said. "Sorry."

"Well, shit. How about a liquor store?"

"That we can do," Jane said. "Any preference?"

"Scotch."

"Okay," Buffy said. "You go. Everyone else hit the hay. I'll stay awake until you all get back. Hurry!"

She practically shoved them out the front door. Jane turned to Daria and said, "Guess that kills my plans for a walking tour."

"Maybe later," Daria said. "After we've murdered the hellgod."

X X X X X

Saying this was the strangest situation Lynette Vaughn had ever been in would be an understatement by several orders of magnitude, but she felt calm about the entire thing. She'd always been able to face up to the world as it was, not as she wanted it to be. If someone had told her five weeks ago that she'd be on the run from a self-proclaimed hellgod who wanted to use a little ball of energy in human form to open a gateway back to their home dimension, which would destroy the world, but only as a side effect, she would have had them committed in fairly short order. Or, alternatively, urged them to write a novel, because she wasn't buying it. (Most inmates lied about how crazy they were. Not all. But most.)

Of course, that was before she'd been introduced to and grown to -- love? Yes, love was the right word -- love the split personalities that were Daria Morgendorffer and Faith Lehane. And that was well before she learned that vampires and all of the ghoulies and goblins and long-legged beasties and things that go bump in the night were not only real, that they more or less routinely carried out plots to destroy the world, or take it over. Usually in May.

And so, the fact that she was on a mad dash to a grocery store and a liquor store -- apparently Maryland was not one of the states that let supermarkets sell alcohol -- so that two vampire Slayers, a vampire, two witches, and assorted other people could hide out from the aforementioned hellgod, didn't faze her as much as, perhaps, people like Bonita Juarez and Carla Fisk would expect.

Not to mention Amy Barksdale. That almost brought a smile to her face, thinking what the supremely well-intentioned aunt of Daria's would think if she knew the truth.

The smile left Lynette's face almost as quickly. Odds were, the woman's "good intentions" would lead her to try to recommit her niece until her "delusions" were worked out. All for Daria's own good, of course. No, Amy Barksdale would never learn about this. Not from Lynette, at any rate.

"Turn here," Jane said. Jane was in the passenger seat; Faith was behind them, doing a little more reading. Lynette had never read _Watchmen_, and she was likely never to do so. She granted that its excellent reputation was well-deserved. It still wasn't the kind of work she usually enjoyed. Right now, Faith's time out was kind of limited to times they knew that Cameron Kim wouldn't be around to see her come out. And in a car where they knew who everyone else was was one of those times.

Lynette turned. "How's it going back there?" she asked.

"Fine and dandy, doc," Faith said. "I think I'll have part 7 done by the time we get back and I gotta go back in the lamp again."

"Part 7?" Jane asked. "Which one is that?" To Lynette she said, "See it?"

"I see it," Lynette said.

Faith said, "It's got Nite Owl and Silk Spectre and it deals with them becomin' superheroes again. Ain't as good as _Fearful Symmetry_ but it has its moments."

"Hmmm," Jane said as Lynette pulled into the parking lot. "Wait until you get to the end of Chapter 11. It --"

"I know DM likes you, Laney," Faith said. "I do too. But if you spoil what's comin' we're gonna be likin' you with a broken arm."

Jane said, "No worries. All I was going to say was that it has one of the best twist endings I've ever seen in a work of fiction. That's all."

"You get to live," Faith said as Lynette parked. "For now."

And then Lynette went into the liquor store and picked out two reasonably priced bottles of scotch -- and picked up a couple of bags of potato chips. When she got out, Jane was just leaving the nearby Pizza King and Faith was nowhere to be seen. "She went down that way," Jane said, pointing to the other end of the shopping center. "Said she'd meet us at the car in fifteen minutes. Which should be as long as it takes the pizza I ordered to be done."

As she dropped the scotch in the SUV, Lynette said, "Pizza?"

"Faith told me Daria was a big fan," Jane said. "So I figured, while we're here --"

"Makes sense," Lynette said. Thoughtful of Jane, too.

They made it through the store quickly and were back to the SUV within ten minutes. Faith was still nowhere in sight. "If she's not back by the time you get back with the pizza," Lynette said. "We start worrying.

"Agreed," Jane said.

Faith came out of a store a bit down the strip right as Jane came back to the car. "You didn't," Lynette said.

"Best I could think of under the circumstances," Faith said.

"Wait a second," Jane said. "You're actually going to give that to him."

"Hey, vamps gotta eat," Faith said. "Don't worry. No one has to know but the two of you, Spike, and me. Hey, that pizza?"

When they got back, they got the groceries inside as quickly as they could. Faith went in through the garage, and apparently became Daria there too, as it was left to Dr. Vaughn to tell Spike what was waiting for him in the garage.

He left, puzzled, then came back in thirty seconds later. "You _have_ to be bleeding kiddin' me," he said.

"What is it?" Buffy asked. She and Spike were the only ones left awake. Everyone else had taken an upstairs room -- though apparently the room with the padded walls had disturbed people sufficiently that no one was sleeping there.

He laughed, in apparent disbelief. "They bought me a rabbit."

Buffy turned, eyes narrowed. "You what?" to Lynette, Jane, and Daria.

"Hey, don't look at me," Jane said. "I was busy getting the pizza. Speaking of. Daria. Would you?"

"I would," Daria said.

"First things first," Buffy said irritably. "You. Bought. Him. A. _Rabbit_."

"He said he was hungry," Daria said. "There were no handy pigs or other large mammals around waiting to be bled, and darn the luck, the local bloodmobile was nowhere in the area." Good improvisation on Daria's part; as far as Lynette knew, this was the first time she'd heard of it.

Would Lynette have thought of buying Spike a live rabbit? No. And no one else had, either. While it was a bit grotesque, it was eminently practical.

She did spare a moment to feel sorry for the rabbit, though, which hadn't asked for any of this.

Buffy looked at Spike. "Are you going to?"

With a somewhat pained expression on his face, Spike said, "I have to. I'm hungry, love."

"Don't tell me about it, don't tell anyone else about it, and get rid of the body as soon as you're done," Buffy said.

"What, your mind can handle all those people I spent years killin', but a rabbit's beyond the pale?"

Buffy took a deep breath. "No. Like I said, just don't tell me about it."

On his way back into the garage, Spike said to Daria, "Why?"

"It was a grocery run," Daria said. "And you said you were hungry. I would have bought you a pig if they'd had any available."

"Hmmm. Wonder what rabbit tastes like," Spike said as he left.

"Never tell us!" Buffy commanded as the vampire shut the door. Then she turned to Daria. "Your idea?"

"Faith's," Lynette said.

"Figures," Buffy said. There didn't seem to be any hostility in it, just a kind of resigned knowledge.

"Faith's kind of like Alexander the Great, in a sense," Daria said. Everyone looked at her. "The story goes like this. There was this tangle of rope, allegedly impossible to unravel, called the Gordian Knot. The greatest warriors and the finest minds of the age came to try to work out the problem. They all failed. Finally, it was young Alexander's turn. He solved it within seconds, in the bluntest manner possible."

"How?" Buffy asked.

"He took out his sword and chopped it in two. And that's Faith." She looked at Jane. "So. Pizza?"

"I thought you'd never ask," Jane said, and the two of them disappeared upstairs.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus asked, "And you're certain there's no other tracking spell?" They were stopped, at the moment, in a mall parking lot.

"None you can cast with the material we have on hand," Doc said. "If I had access to a magic shop, perhaps. But who knows if a town like this even has a legitimate magic shop? There really isn't that much in the way of the supernatural around here. Even Baltimore doesn't have an especially large supernatural community. This far away? Maybe a few nature spirits, a demon family or two trying to pass as human, and a lycanthrope gone feral out in the wilderness, but that's about it, divine one. I apologize for not thinking of this in advance --"

"Relax, Doc," Glory said. "I'm not angry at you." And why the fuck wasn't she angry at him? He was supposed to know these things! But she wasn't angry.

_Thanks, Benjy_.

_You're welcome, sis_, came Ben's voice. _Good to see my influence doesn't extend to stopping you from murdering dozens of innocent people, though. Wouldn't want to cramp your style_.

_I thought you were shutting up._

_You started the conversation. Go ahead. Rage at Doc. I don't care if you kill him_.

_Nice try._

_Then quit giving me a hard time. I can't help what's going on any more than you can. God knows I wish I could. Then we could be separate and you could go back to hell on your own time._

_Shoo, Benjy. Get back to your hole like the rabbit you are._

He didn't say anything else. About damn time he shut up, too.

"That's good to hear, Divine One," Doc said. "So. We've made it to Lawndale, Maryland. How do you wish to progress from here?"

"Doc," Glory said, "I think you've done everything you can. And we all know how good _they_ are at doing things," she said pointing to the minions. "They had freakin' months to find my Key, and it took a member of the Knights of Byzantium to actually find her for me." She paused. "You know, I should have thought about bringing Sunnydale down around the Slayer's ears sooner. Maybe a few dozen deaths would have changed her mind."

"Possible," Doc said, "But not likely. Humans place a high value on family relationships -- at least, most of them do. She might have felt bad about the people you killed, but I doubt she would have given up her sister."

"Still would've been worth a try," Glory said. "But it's too late now. We're nowhere near that little hellhole, and this hellhole doesn't have the same meaning for her. Damn me for not thinking of it sooner." After a second, "Where was I?"

"You were about to tell me how you were planning to search for the Key, I believe, Divine One."

"Right." She got out of the car.

"What --"

"Time to do it my way," Glory said. "Hey! You!" she said to three girls walking to a nearby car.

"Ex_cuse_ you, are you talking to us?" one of them said.

"I think she was, Sandi," another one said.

"Wow," the third one said very slowly. "Look at those pores."

"Look at _what_ about my pores?" Glory demanded, confused.

"They're amazing," the slow one said. "Don't you think so, Sandi?"

"Yes, yes, Tiffany," Sandi said. "They're fantastic. They're the most amazing pores _ever_." She looked at Glory and said. "Really, they are good. But none of that explains why you so _rudely _interrupted our walk back to our car."

"Maybe she needs directions," the other one said.

"To _where_, Stacy? The mall, or back to her car? They're kind of obvious, don't you think?"

"We're trying to find out where a woman named Jane Lane lives," Doc said.

"What on earth for?" Sandi said. "_She_ doesn't have fashion sense. Or _any_ idea of how to care for her skin. Unlike you. _You _have style."

"Thanks," Glory said. She was going to pound these girls until they told her what she wanted to know, but dammit, she actually liked them. Unlike most of the people on this mudball, they actually had taste. "She stole something of mine and I want it back."

"That sounds _violent,_" Sandi said. "We don't really _like_ violence."

"I hear you, sister," Glory said. "I mean, really, I don't want to break a nail any more than you do. I mean, look at these puppies." She held up her fingernails. "Do you know how long it takes to get them looking like this?"

"Wow," Stacy said.

"I imagine _quite _a while," Sandi said.

"Damn straight," Glory said. "Now, I'm not going to do anything that's going to cause these beauties any damage. I just want what's mine back, that's all."

"And then," Tiffany said, "Maybe you could tell us more about how you got your pores looking so good."

"Well, I don't see any reason not to tell you," Sandi said. "Seeing as how you're actually _fashionable_ and all." She rattled off an address, which Doc wrote down.

"How did you know that, Sandi?"

"I always keep tabs on who might be a candidate for an emergency fashion intervention," Sandi said.

They walked off.

Well, that was easier than she would have thought.

_See? You can accomplish things without violence._

_Shut up, Benjy._


	39. Killing Time

Disclaimer: The Buffyverse is the creation of Joss Whedon, the Dariaverse of Glenn Eichler, and the plot and original characters of me.

X X X X X

Once more, they were in their dreams, in Faith's old apartment.

"Seems like it's been damn near forever, DM," Faith said.

"That's what happens when you get ten minutes of sleep over two days," came Daria's response.

"I've been here a little more recently than you have," Faith said. "While B slept, she and I had a chat."

"Are you sure it was Buffy and not our old friend the Echo?"

"Yeah. She was real. Though it was a hoot introducing them." A bit more seriously, she said, "You realize we're going to do something about her, right? I mean, she says she's not a whole personality. And maybe she ain't, but she's still part of us."

"Agreed," Daria said. "Though, of course, now isn't quite the time."

"Yeah. You're right."

"I didn't realize you could bring her in here."

"I can't. Not on my own. She and I only talk like that when some kind of higher power's apparently determined there's a good reason. Only time I remember doin' it before was right after our big fight. You know, the one that ended with me throwin' myself off the balcony. Anyway, I told her how to kill the Mayor."

"I thought, when you woke up, that you went right back to being one of the bad guys."

"I did. But my conscious and my subconscious were hardly in sync right then, you know what I'm sayin'? I knew deep down how much I'd screwed over B and her friends, it just took a while for my wakin' self to catch up." She stretched. "Like I said, I can't control when it happens. I made like I knew it all along, but I was as shocked as she was."

"So, you said the 'higher powers' had determined that there was a good reason for you and Buffy to talk. And that reason would be?"

Faith sighed. "I ain't sure you're ready to hear it."

"I'm sure, whatever it, is, my delicate constitution can stand the strain," Daria said.

"I ain't keepin' it a secret to protect your delicate constitution," Faith said. "There's a whole shitload of darkness in what we do."

"And you're trying to keep me from learning about them for as long as possible," Daria said. "I appreciate that. But you're always going to be a vampire Slayer, and even if I'm unsure about how often I'm going to be taking the role personally and how often I'm going to be handing it off to you, I'm going to need to know about the hard parts, too. Besides, you've already informed me of the mistakes of your past. I doubt anything else you say is going to faze me." After a second, "Please don't take that as a challenge. Really. Don't feel obligated to tell me about that time you had to carve up a demon using only your fingernails and a butter knife."

"Who says I had a butter knife?" Faith said, chuckling for a second. Then, sobering quickly, she said, "Naah. Nothin' like that. I wouldn't try to gross you out and I wouldn't insult you by thinkin' you couldn't handle it." Then she explained about Glory and Ben and how, if they got the chance, they might have to kill Ben to kill Glory. When Faith was done, Daria didn't say anything for a few minutes. "DM?"

"Still here," Daria said. "How did Buffy react?"

"She said she had to talk it over with Giles," Faith said.

"And why didn't you think I'd be up for this?" Daria said, with a little bit of anger in her voice.

"Because I'm talkin' about killin' an innocent man," Faith said.

"Who, as you point out, would have to die anyway," Daria said, "Except on the off chance that the deadline passes before she discovers us. And we have no idea what's going to happen then. I'm against the death penalty. I have no plans to mourn Willard Jay Harbaugh. And I despise situational ethics. But there is nothing in my personal code of morals against self-defense."

"How is it self-defense if we kill him first?" Faith asked.

"I thought you were in favor of it," Daria said.

"I am. But I don't want to drag you down to my level."

"Quit that," Daria said irritably. "Quit acting as though you're still the Faith you were. I don't see you like that. I will _never_ see you like that. You've done horrible things in your past. I get that. But you're _not_ advocating this because you want to hurt someone. If I recall, you made that argument yourself."

"Yeah, I did. But I was tryin' to convince B, not myself. Seemed to work on her."

"Do you want to kill him?"

"I don't think so," Faith said. "But the thing is, DM, you don't know what it's like. It's one of the things that got me workin' with the Mayor: There's a thrill to killin', to havin' someone else's life in your hands and bein' able to control whether they live or die."

"And if this was about the feeling of power," Daria said, "You'd have done it yourself and laughed. Not agonized about it _and told Buffy. _Because you know it's not a decision she's going to make lightly. And you're worried that for you, it would be."

"Oh, good. So I get to shove my own moral dilemmas on someone else."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, and if you mention it to anyone else I will deny it, but sometimes that's what other people are for. Not to shove your own moral dilemmas on. But to get help with them. We're both loners; it's one of the few things we have in common. But we wouldn't be where we were without someone trying to help us -- someone we both trust. It goes against our basic nature, I know. And I'm not saying I want to become a social butterfly. In fact, I want you to kill me if you so much as see me start to spin a cocoon. Hmmm. I'm not doing well at this."

"What you're sayin'," Faith said, "Is that the other people are going to be there anyway, so I may as well use them?"

"I wasn't making it as boldly self-interested as that, but you have the general idea," Daria said.

Faith laughed, a bit self-depreciatingly. "I can't believe this. Here I was all concerned about upsettin' you with the idea of killing Ben, and you're the one givin' me the pep talk."

"Go team," Daria said, in as deadpan a voice as she could manage. "So, made any further progress on _Watchmen_?

"Yeah. Partway through chapter 8. Laney told me that something big was going to happen at the end of 11, but I promised to break her arm if she spoiled it for me."

"I don't blame you," Daria said. "I probably would have made the same threat."

"Difference is, DM, you wouldn't've actually done it."

"When it comes to spoilers? Don't be too sure."

X X X X X

Buffy stayed awake while everyone else went to sleep. She carried Trent Lane upstairs -- he didn't so much as stir -- and put him in the room with Xander and Anya, then went back downstairs.

Spike came in from the garage with a blood ring around his mouth; Buffy thought of telling him to wipe it off, then thought, why bother? And just let him go. He went upstairs.

Which left Buffy alone, and awake, and trying to find ways of killing time.

It might have been lonely, but at least it gave her first crack at the food.

They'd done smart shopping. They hadn't bought anything that needed to be refrigerated or cooked. Eating half a box of granola bars and washing it down with warm ginger ale might not have been the food her body craved at the moment -- why couldn't Jane Lane have ordered _two_ pizzas? She thought grumblingly -- it filled her stomach well enough.

Of course, there wasn't a whole hell of a lot else to do, other than think about the situation, and she'd done entirely too much of that recently. Anyway, if she thought too much about it on her own, she was likely to go into serious brood mode, and she didn't want Angel to sue her for copyright violations.

She had no musical talent, and less drawing ability, so fiddling with the guitar -- ha! -- or drawing something on Jane Lane's scratch pad was out. And no way in hell was she going to go out to Trent's van and clean up the mess Spike had left behind.

By the time she heard Lynette Vaughn's cell phone ring, she'd been reduced to reading the backs of the food packaging for nutritional information. She ran to pick it up before it could wake anyone. She frowned when she saw who the caller ID said was calling, but picked up the phone anyway. "Yeah?"

"Who is this?" came the voice at the other end of the phone.

"This is the person who picked up the phone," Buffy said. "And you are?"

"Lilah Morgan, attorney for Wolfram & Hart. I'm looking for one of my operatives. She hasn't reported in for a couple of days and the last time I saw her, she was traipsing off to God knows where with, probably, you. Unless you're a thief who picked up Lynette Vaughn's phone."

Buffy ignored the last jibe. "Wow. You mean someone working for Wolfram & Hart can say the word God and _not_ burst into flames?"

"We've even been known to pray on occasion," Lilah said, leaving open the matter of who exactly they were praying to. "And to whom am I speaking?"

"This would be Buffy Summers. As for your operative, one, she's fine; just saved our asses from a group of Knights of Byzantium. And two, I didn't know you cared."

"She represents a sizeable investment," Lilah said. "And you'll forgive me if I don't take your word, but for some reason she's not picking up her own phone."

"You know damn well what the reason is," Buffy said. "We can't have her calling in to you every three hours to see if you've decided to have us killed yet."

"So you stole her cell phone. That makes sense. I might have done the same thing in your situation. But none of that explains why she hasn't found a pay phone."

"I didn't have her killed, Ms. Morgan," Buffy said. "In case you've forgotten, I'm one of the good guys. We don't casually slaughter people just because they're in our way."

"I never said it was casual," Lilah said. "Look. Just have her call when you can, okay? We'd like an update on what's going on."

"You want an update? I'll be happy to give you an update. We're hiding out in an abandoned house in a mid-size town not far from Baltimore, Maryland. So far Glorificus hasn't been able to find us. Though the Knights of Byzantium have. Twice more since the incident in Kern County. And so far equals so good."

"So far can change in a heartbeat, Miss Summers."

"Believe me," Buffy said. "I know that from long and bitter experience. But the longer we keep her occupied, the better. The deadline's in -" she checked her watch -- "About 32 hours."

"I appreciate the willingness to cooperate," Lilah said. "Still. Have Cameron Kim call us back."

"That sounded suspiciously like an order," Buffy said. "I don't like being given orders."

"I don't care what you like, Miss Summers. I know what you've done, the apocalypses you've been able to prevent. We don't want you as an enemy any more than you want us. But if it comes to that, remember. You may have God on your side, but we have the lawyers. Have a good day."

A click from the other end of the phone signaled that the call was over. Well, it wasn't like Buffy'd been expecting any potential conversations with Wolfram & Hart to go any differently.

She put the phone back and carefully looked outside. No police were there, so apparently the neighbors hadn't called to complain about the squatters. Maybe they were lucky and Daria's once-future home had turned out to be between the Lawndale Home for the Terminally Clueless and a pair of newlyweds just home from their honeymoon.

Maybe, but she doubted it. They couldn't count on luck to protect them forever. She'd have to get Willow and Tara to see if they could magically hide the vehicles.

Right as she was about to head back into the kitchen to once again begin her exciting reading of the backs of cereal boxes, she heard someone coming down the stairs.

It was Giles, followed by Lynette Vaughn. She was saying, "You've apologized enough already, Mr. Giles. I don't blame you for waking me up." She paused, then added, "Besides, it was time for someone to get up anyway, and better two than one. Buffy, hi. You must have been bored down here by yourself."

"Only out of my mind," Buffy said. "If you don't count the phone call from Wolfram & Hart, that is."

Giles and Dr. Vaughn said "What?" simultaneously, so Buffy filled them in. When she was done, Giles said, "So you didn't actually explain that Cameron Kim wasn't in the immediate vicinity?"

"I'd be surprised if she's not somewhere nearby," Dr. Vaughn said. "After all, if she was able to track us down at Soldier's Delight, I wouldn't be surprised if she could follow us here."

"Still, nowhere where Buffy can immediately get the phone to her."

"True," Buffy said. "Still, just to be sure Wolfram & Hart doesn't try to have us all murdered in a fit of pique, it's probably a good idea to find her at some point."

Giles and Dr. Vaughn agreed. "Buffy, if you want to get some sleep, now would be the time," her Watcher said.

Which was a terrific idea. At this point, Buffy was running on sheer willpower. Of all of them, probably only Daria had gotten less sleep. Still --

"There's something I need to talk to you about," Buffy said, bringing them both into the kitchen.

"Do you want me to leave?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No. No point. I may as well get advice from two adults as one. Last night, during that tiny time frame when I was actually asleep, I had a conversation with Faith."

"You went to the apartment?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

"Yeah. And Faith had a suggestion. Because, inside her head, it's easier to remember that Glory is -- is -- anyone helps me here and I'll shave them bald -- is _Ben_. And Ben is a human being. And human beings are much easier to kill than hellgods."

She looked at them, waiting for their reaction. Giles spoke first though Buffy hadn't been expecting him to say anything like what he did. He turned to Dr. Vaughn and said, "Until now, I have had doubts as to the efficacy of your therapy on Faith. Not that I believed you were a poor psychiatrist; simply that I believed that Faith's mental problems were greater than could be cured by even so dramatic a discovery as finding out she was a split personality. It seems I was mistaken."

"I appreciate the compliment," Dr. Vaughn said, "Even if I don't quite understand what you mean by it." Good. That made two of them.

"Because Faith's idea of planning used to be making sure her knife was sharpened, and her idea of working and playing well with others used to be saying stuff like, 'Yo, B. Vampire nest on 14th. Wanna come with?'"

Buffy couldn't help herself; she started laughing. Once she managed to get herself under control she said, "I definitely need sleep. Still, hearing those words come out of your mouth, Giles --"

"I've been around all of you long enough that I'm perfectly capable of emulating your speech patterns," Giles said. "However, the moment I begin unconsciously talking like any of you, you have my permission to have me committed."

"I think we'll all be on the ground in various stages of faint," Buffy said.

"In any event," Giles said. "She's right. That's the easiest way out of our problems. Honestly, if I'd known about it months ago, I might have been tempted to end our difficulties by killing the lad then."

All traces of good humor left Buffy at that moment. "Giles --"

"I said I would have been tempted, Buffy," he said. "I wouldn't have done it because I would, like you, have been searching for another way out. But we may no longer have that luxury."

Hating that he might be right, Buffy looked at Dr. Vaughn. "And you? Are you capable of doing something like that?"

"Doing it? No. Self-defense is one thing, deliberate taking of someone's life is another. Condoning when someone else does it . . . probably not, either. Understanding it, yes. Being able to live with it because we had no other choice?" She sighed. "Yes. That doesn't mean you have to be the one to do it. In fact, with as many problems as you seem to have with the idea, I'd say it would probably be a really bad idea for your mental health to do it. It probably also wouldn't do Faith's psyche much good, either."

"You're right about that," Buffy said. "I could never do it intentionally. I can barely imagine doing it in self-defense."'

"You won't have to," Giles said firmly. "I'll make sure of that."


	40. In Cold Blood

Author's Note: Building towards a climax. Next part, something big happens.

Disclaimer: Except for Cameron Kim and Lynette Vaughn 'tain't mine.

X X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus looked at the house dubiously. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Doc said. "This is the address -- and the nose never lies. The vampire was in here. The Key, too, though her odor is fainter."

"Fainter?"

Doc said, "I haven't a clue why. Perhaps she wasn't in the house very long. I imagine that on receiving your phone call they bolted."

Glory growled and slammed her fist down on -- no, there was nothing to slam her fist down on. "You!" she said to a nearby minion.

"Yes, radiant one?" the minion said, coming up to her.

"Stand right there." The puzzled minion did exactly that, and Glory slammed her fist down on his head. The minion crumpled to the ground.

Doc looked over the fallen creature. "I do believe you may have killed him."

"And? Plenty more where they came from."

"I was just commenting," Doc said. "So. Do we spread out now and look?"

Glory thought for a second. "No. Not in force. If she's still anywhere around, we don't want to spook her." She looked at the Lane house. "It's not a penthouse, but it'll do for a couple of hours, until the sun goes down. Minions!" The minions came running up to her. She pointed to four of them at random. "You four go looking for any sign of the Slayer or my Key. If you see her, send someone back to tell us and keep watching the place. If she sees you there, you'd better hope she kills you because I am going to be _very cranky_ if I ever found out you screwed up."

The four nodded, scrambled into one of the rental vans, and drove off. "Everyone else inside," Glory said. "And someone hide the body before Doc tells me not to make the police nervous again."

They went inside.

X X X X X

Dr. Lynette Vaughn watched Buffy Summers go upstairs. The young woman -- and for all of her powers, for all that she'd done, that's still what she was -- had seemed only partly mollified by what she and Giles had said.

Of course, given that the topic of discussion involved killing an innocent human being, that Buffy had been even partly mollified had been progress.

Lynette knew she couldn't do such an act herself. Not to save herself, not to save the world. And it would damage Faith and, she was sure, Buffy as well. Perhaps not irreparably, but best to avoid that if possible.

Rupert Giles, in the meantime, was looking at the supply of food they'd laid in. "I don't suppose you managed to get any tea," he said.

"Didn't think of it. Sorry. We do, however, have a wonderful supply of tepid juices and sodas, not to mention two bottles of scotch."

Giles took one of the bottles of apple juice. "I suppose, under the circumstances, I should be grateful for even that." Then he took a granola bar and opened it.

Lynette grabbed a can of Diet Pepsi and a pack of cheese crackers and joined Giles in leaning against the kitchen counter. There was no furniture in the house; they'd both been sleeping on the bare floor upstairs, and Lynette would guess that his back hurt as badly as hers did. She counted herself lucky that she was able to use some of her dirty clothes as a makeshift pillow.

"So," she said after they'd been eating in silence for a couple of minutes, "You know most of these people better than I do. Are any of them capable of --"

"Of killing an innocent person in cold blood?" Giles asked. "Much as I'd like to say a blanket no, sadly, I can't. Spike, of course, would do it in a heartbeat -- so to speak, but his condition renders that unlikely. Under the correct circumstances, I believe he'd make the attempt. Xander? I'm not sure. Because of a spell from several years back he has a certain amount of military knowledge, but I'm unsure if that translates into being able to kill someone. I'd like to hope it didn't. Tara, Dawn: No. Anya? Who knows? In her time as a demon she caused a great many deaths, but they were all at the remove of a spell. She seems to dislike getting her hands dirty, though if someone threatened Xander, I could see her doing it."

"And Willow?"

Giles took a drink of his apple juice, then said, "Willow could do it as easily as I could. For all that Buffy is the Slayer and the leader, Willow is the protector. Hurt someone Buffy cares about, she's capable of violence. Hurt someone Willow cares about -- or threaten to do so -- and she's capable of a whole lot more."

"That's right, she's a powerful witch."

To Lynette's surprise, Giles shook his head. "That's only part of it. Her temperament has nothing to do with the magic. I daresay that, had Willow not a trace of magical ability, that if she saw Ben in front of her right now she would shove the knife into his heart without a moment's hesitation. She might feel some lingering guilt about it afterwards, but to protect those she cared about, Willow could kill Ben ten times over." He took another sip of his juice. "As could I."

"For what it's worth, your opinions more or less mirror mine. You have a lot more experience with them, of course. I am convinced that Buffy and Faith could do it -- but that they might hesitate, and they would beat themselves up over it afterwards for a long time. If this needs to be done, it needs to be done by someone it won't psychologically damage."

"So," Giles said, "You think I should mention this privately to Willow?"

"And Spike. No one else."

"We have spoken." Giles said, "Of those I know best. Stipulated that you yourself are incapable of doing it --"

"Under most circumstances," Lynette said.

Giles nodded once. "Granted. And that Faith _is_ capable but is better off not doing it."

"Yes," Lynette said.

"How about Daria?"

Lynette took a deep breath. "Yes." At Giles' mild glare, Lynette said, "Maybe that's not full enough of an explanation. Yes, I think she could handle it. I think it's something she would do her damnedest to avoid doing, but if it came to a matter of brute necessity, I think that she would do it without dithering. Not because she would enjoy it, and not because she values some lives more than others. Her opposition to the death penalty is sincere and deeply felt. Daria _thinks_ more highly of some people than others, but that's a side issue. She's this odd mix of failed idealism and pragmatism. She'll wish for, and occasionally work towards, those ideals, while accepting the reality." She paused, then added, "Of course, I'm hoping it never comes to that."

"Ben will die, if we win," Giles said, putting down his empty bottle.

"Of course. I wasn't thinking otherwise," Lynette said. "But I don't think it's too much for me to hope that neither Daria nor Faith have to kill him. That's one of the reasons I think you should bring up the idea to Willow and Spike."

"I hope none of us do," Giles said. "I hope we're able to kill Glory as herself, so the matter never comes up."

"One more thing," Lynette said. "I might suggest that if you bring this up to Willow and Spike, you not suggest that it was Faith's idea in the first place. Willow seems to be being more civil towards Faith, and making more of a genuine effort, but --"

"I see your point," Giles said. "I shall make no mention that the idea originated with Faith." After a second, he added, "You do realize that they may never actually like her."

"I do," Lynette said. "And Faith's willing to accept that as the cost of the horrific things she did to all of you, provided that none of you blame Daria as well. I'm glad you, Buffy and Tara have been willing to accept her this far." Anya and Xander Harris had been indifferent, for the most part, which suited both Lynette and Daria fine.

"I'm a pragmatist, as well," Giles said. "Though not without my own willful blindnesses. Buffy has always wanted to see Faith genuinely reform -- even after all they've been through, she's willing to forgive, if not forget. And Tara is, I believe, the most genuinely nice person I have ever known."

"After this is over, you and Buffy will still be willing to help train Daria?"

"She is a Slayer, I am a Watcher."

Which was all the answer he gave; but then, it was all the answer Lynette needed.

X X X X X

When Buffy Summers found Cameron Kim, the shapeshifter was asleep. The treatment she'd gotten from Wolfram & Hart to relieve her exhaustion had been a one-time thing over a day ago. She wasn't quite as tired as the Slayer and her friends apparently were, but she'd definitely needed to catch up on her sleep.

Buffy handed her Lynette Vaughn's cell phone within five seconds of waking her up and said, "Your bosses want you to call them." Then she'd turned around and left.

Cameron moved around until she was well away from the abandoned house which served as the Slayer's hideout, shifted form so no one would easily be able to recognize her, and made the call.

Lilah Morgan herself was on the phone within seconds. "Not to sound like your mother," the attorney said sarcastically, "But even if the Slayer smashed your phone into tiny pieces, there _are_ other ways to get in touch with us."

Cameron apologized, though she didn't feel especially sorry. "It does tend to get hectic, traveling with the Slayer."

"I understand that the circumstances are unusual," Lilah said. "Just try not to let it happen again." Odds were it wouldn't have a chance to happen again; by the next time Cameron was supposed to report it, the business with Glorificus would be settled one way or the other. "Anyway," Lilah said, "I believe you have a report or two."

"Yes, I do." She gave Lilah a brief but through account of the events of the last thirty hours or so. Lilah asked a couple of pointed questions along the way. When Cameron was finished, Lilah said, "Well ,the Knights are about to go down in flames, anyway. Their involvement in attempted kidnapping and the destruction of the Kern County Sheriff's Office hasn't gone unnoticed. Federal and state authorities have plans for this 'cult' terrorist group that's going to make all others pale in comparison.."

"How much did Wolfram & Hart have to do with this?"

"Surprisingly little," Lilah admitted. "A nudge here or there, but even that wasn't really necessary. The brutal murders of several dozen cops tend to piss off law enforcement agencies, for some reason."

"Is there anything public about Glorificus?"

"A little bit, and we're working to keep _that_ secret. A couple of witnesses mentioned a woman with a bad perm in the police station, but that's about it. Right now the police are looking for her as a witness only." She paused, then changed the subject. "Two questions. First, have you seen any evidence that Faith Lehane still exists?"

"Apart from Daria Morgendorffer occasionally being able to fight like an experienced Slayer -- and I got a convincing demonstration that these abilities were simply 'muscle memory' -- no."

"Keep an eye out," Lilah said, "But on that, I'll trust you. And now for the most important question: Do you know who the Key is?"

"No," Cameron said. "But at this point, I'm certain that it's one of three people: Willow Rosenberg, Anya Jenkins, or Dawn Summers."

Lilah was quiet for so long Cameron thought she'd been hung up on. Finally, she said, "It's Dawn Summers."

"How are you sure?"

"Because it only makes sense," Lilah said. "Why should the Key have been placed in the form of a thousand-year old ex-demon or one of the more powerful witches to come down the pike in the last century, when it could have been put in the form of the Slayer's sister? This is just a hunch; Wolfram & Hart has access to extra-dimensional records that won't have been touched by any spell that might have been cast in this one. I'll check." She laughed bitterly. "Of course, by now it's too late for us to do anything about it either way."

"Any instructions?"

"Yeah. Our hand's been forced in this one, and I don't like it; but we can worry about that later. Give the Slayer all of the support she needs. Right now it's as important for us to kill Glorificus as it is them."

"Understood."

They both hung up. Cameron couldn't quite see how their hand has been forced, but she was glad she wasn't going to be ordered to murder anyone in the immediate future.

Placing the phone in her pocket, she began to walk back towards the abandoned house. When she got there, she saw three of Glory's minions, from across the street, pointing to and talking about something -- she didn't think it was real estate values.

They hadn't seen her yet, though it was only a matter of moments before they did. There was no convenient way to hide her approach. So, stealth was out.

That left speed. Cameron was good at speed. She shifted into the form of a wolf and ran across the lawn as fast as she could.

One of the minions saw her before she was halfway there. He yelled out an alarm and started to run. The others joined him. She bounded on the slowest one before he got two steps away and ripped out his throat. He screamed once as he died.

_Damn! _Some of the local residents were paying attention. This wasn't a deserted street or a dusty backwater; this was daylight, in the middle of an inhabited suburb. A large dog chasing people down the street was bound to attract attention.

There was nothing she could do about that now. She couldn't let the minions get back to wherever Glorificus was. This just made things a bit more complex, that's all.

The two minions rather intelligently split up at the next intersection. Shit. Cameron shifted from a wolf into a pronghorn, caught up with one of them within ten seconds, changed into a kangaroo, and landed on him, smashing his skull into the pavement.

She spun in place as more people started to notice what was going on. For the moment, she maintained the form of a kangaroo and bounded off after the other minion, who now had a good block on her.

Damn all witnesses. She couldn't let him get away, but now she was stuck in kangaroo form until she did it. The minion, meanwhile, was doing its absolute best to put its feet on the ground as often as possible, so while Cameron was gaining, she wasn't gaining as fast as she needed to.

Another minute or so of hopping madly down the lawns of Lawndale and she'd made up half the ground she needed to -- but now, she could see where the minion was going:

_Jane Lane's house_. The residence was only a quarter of a mile away.

The mission was more important than her secret. Trusting in the power of denial that had kept Sunnydale, California off the national radar for decades, she changed back into a pronghorn and caught up with the minion one house away from Jane Lane's.

No hesitation now. She went leopard, ripped out the minion's throat, and turned to run immediately.

By now, there were people watching her every move. Staying in leopard form, she ran towards the nearest unoccupied backyard and back into a small wooded area, where she changed into a human form and came running out, yelling about the "monster" she'd just seen.

The people she ran into seemed to buy it. She slipped away as soon as she could and quietly made her way back to the abandoned house, pleased with herself.

Of course, Glory had sent out four minions. Not three.


	41. 35 Minutes Ago

Author's Note: I spoil several of Watchmen's plot twists below, including the end of chapter 11. If you haven't read it and you want to --

Well, hell, you've had twenty years.

Disclaimer: The Buffy characters belong to Joss Whedon, the Daria characters to Glenn Eichler, and the original ones to me. _Watchmen_ was created by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons.

**Thirty-Five Minutes Ago**

Faith woke up on her own; next to her, Jane was sound asleep. Somewhere along the way Trent Lane had come into the room as well. Good thing for DM that Faith had been the one who'd woken up; she'd've been embarrassed as hell.

Well, DM didn't have the experience that Faith had with guys. Of course, there were some prostitutes who didn't have that kind of experience. She wasn't putting herself down; it might have been part of her psychological damage that she acted like that, but damn if at least part of it hadn't been fun.

If she strained, she could hear the Doc and Giles talking in low tones downstairs; no reason to bug them yet. Besides, she had no idea where Cameron Kim was, and wandering around under the circumstances would've been too risky.

So that left her with some free time, and no one around to talk with. Good thing she'd carted _Watchmen_ upstairs. She'd been midway through part 8. If she was lucky, and fast, she might be able to get another chapter or two done before everyone else started waking up.

And if she was _really_ lucky, she'd make it all the way to the end of chapter 11 so she could see what all the fuss was about.

**Now**

Buffy woke up to find Cameron Kim standing over her. "Sorry to have to do this," the shapeshifter said, "But I interrupted three minions watching the house. They tried to run, but I killed them. Still, it's probably not a good idea --"

"To stick around," Buffy said a bit groggily. "Yeah. You're right. What time is it?" Cameron told her. Well, hell, two hours was better than nothing. "Go wake up everyone else up. I'll handle these two."

Cameron nodded and left the room. Buffy stretched and yawned once, then sprang to her feet. She tapped both Willow and Tara and the shoulder.

Tara's eyes opened immediately. Willow just said, "Glory's got giant mutant frogs," and tried to roll over and cuddle next to Tara.

It was cute, but it was so very definitely the wrong time to be cute. Buffy tapped her harder. "No, she isn't, but that's about the only thing we have going for us at the moment. Come on. We have to be out of here as soon as we can."

Tara said, "We, we'll be down in two minutes."

"At most," Buffy said, and left the room.

The hallway was not filled with groggy people, and Buffy was reasonably sure it should be. She pounded on the walls and yelled, "_Move_, people! This is not a drill!" and then went downstairs.

Two sets of footsteps followed her down. She didn't turn around to see who. Giles and Dr. Vaughn were sitting in the living room, but stood up as soon as she came down. Giles said, "Buffy. What's going on?"

"Cameron Kim caught some minions scoping the place out. She killed the three she saw, but she's not going by the assumption that she got all of them, and neither am I. Grab everything you can throw in the back of the van, and let's get the hell out of here. Spike!" she finished with a yell.

"What?" came a mild voice about five feet behind her.

"Sorry. Did you clean up your dinner? The last thing we need is to be riding in the back of the van with --"

"With a what?"

"Never mind, Dawn," Buffy said firmly. "Spike. Take care of it."

"Right," the vampire said.

Buffy yelled, "Why am I not seeing more people down here?"

**Thirty-One Minutes Ago**

Faith finished up part 8. Damn. Those kids killed the old Nite Owl. Why the fuck did they do that? People were stupid.

She skimmed the _New Frontiersman_ bonus at the end -- sometimes, these things had additional info -- and kept going onto chapter 9, "The Darkness of Mere Being." Looked like it was about Silk Spectre's backstory: How she met Doc Manhattan and her relationship with her parents.

She kept reading.

**Now**

Lynette Vaughn didn't have a lot to get together, so she busied herself with carting things back and forth to the van and SUV. The first time she'd gone to the van, Spike had told her, "place ain't ready yet. Maybe next load." Apparently Lynette must have had a questioning expression on her face, because Spike had said, "Whod've thought rabbits had so much blood in them?"

And that was more or less at the limit of what Lynette wanted to know, so she left.

Daria joined her on the next trip. "What's going on?" she asked. "Faith was in control until Buffy started pounding on the walls. I'm guessing perhaps that Glory has found us?"

"No," Lynette said, "But she's about to." She told Daria all she knew, which wasn't much. "I have to say, I'm glad we brought Cameron Kim along."

"Yes. Life's better with a shapeshifter. Though I doubt Wolfram & Hart will be using that as part of their ad campaign." They put their load into the back of the SUV and turned to go. Daria stopped her. "Look. This is hard for me to say, but I care about you. You've gone out of your way to look out for me and Faith, and I appreciate that."

The emotions were raw; an absolute rarity, coming from Daria. "Why do I think that there's a but coming?"

"No but. And. And, I want you to be here, out of harm's way. Stay here at the SUV. If Glory attacks, she'll attack the main group. You'll be safe here. And," she said fiercely. "I want you to be safe."

What Daria, couldn't, wouldn't, would never say, out of loyalty to Helen Morgendorffer, was that she saw Lynette as something of a mother figure in her life. Lynette couldn't have been more touched. Truth be told, while she still saw herself as the Virgil to Daria and Faith's Dante, she saw them more and more as daughter figures as well.

And since she couldn't have children, it was an amazing feeling. One she might want to explore, if they all survived the next couple of days.

"No," Lynette said. "Like I said back in Sunnydale: Whither thou goest, I will also go. You want to keep me safe. I want to keep you safe too."

Daria looked at her and said, "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Then let's get going."

**Twenty Minutes Ago**

Shit. The frigging _Comedian_ was Laurie's father? How the hell crappy must her life with her husband have been if she was willing to go back to a guy who'd tried to _rape_ her?

With a twist ending like that at the end of part 9, the one at the end of part 11 had better be on the level of _The Usual Suspects_.

Next part: back to Rorschach and Nite Owl and trying to figure out who the bad guys were.

Kinda hard to figure that out sometimes in real life, too.

Not this time around, though. Glory was pretty freaking obvious.

Faith kept reading.

**Now**

Cameron Kim hung around the periphery, moving a few things out to the van when they were handed to her. "What was in there?" She asked Spike.

"Don't worry about it," the vampire said.

"Well, it smells." Quietly, Cameron enhanced her nose and took a deeper whiff. Seemed to be some kind of small, furry animal.

"Well, unless Daria and the good doctor picked up any cleanin' fluid when they went on that food run, we're all kind of stuck with that. I did the best I could with what I had on hand." Truth be told, it wasn't that noticeable, and there wasn't a whole lot of evidence. Still not something most people would want to be sitting in, though a choice was between that and letting Glory catch them was no choice at all.

Then Anya walked out with some of the food. She took a sniff, then a second, and dropped the food. "Aaaah!"

Within seconds the garage was full of people. "What is it?" Giles said. "Is it Glory?"

"No!" Anya said. "I smell a bunny!" Buffy threw up her hands in sheer frustration, growled, and went back inside the house.

Jane said, "Ah. You noticed Spike's dinner."

Anya looked at Spike. "You ate a bunny?"

A bit embarrassed, Spike said, "They brought it back, and I was hungry."

"I love you," Anya said. "Not in a sexual way or anything, though I'm betting you probably have some stories to tell there, but not now. Go ahead. Kill as many bunnies as you want."

"Anya," Xander said, "We need to go back inside."

"Oh, you go," Anya said. "I'm going to stand here and bask in the odor of the dead bunny."

Xander, apparently realizing the futility of arguing with his girlfriend, spun on his heels and left the garage. Cameron followed him. When she got inside, Buffy was saying, "I'm not giving out style points, people. Do we have everything we're likely to need?"

"One, one more trip should do it," Tara said. "Where are we going?"

"Away," Buffy said. "We need to stay ahead of her for as long as possible."

**Eleven Minutes Ago**

Faith realized she was skimming some of the book, but she kind of had the impression that she wasn't going to get too much of a chance to read in the immediate future, so she wanted to pack in as much as she could now.

No, she'd never be a scholar like DM; she'd tried reading _Moby Dick_ a year or so back, and gave up after fifty pages. Maybe it was great literature, but holy shit was it boring.

_Watchmen, _though, was right up her alley. Maybe she'd look to see if this -- what was the author's name? -- this Moore guy had any other comics DM might think were worth reading.

'cause, _damn_, but the guy had a knack for plotting; one twist after the other, and Faith would've bet that there were hints in the art of the twists, if she had enough time to pay attention. This last one?

The bad guy was one of the heroes. She could relate, kind of, though Ozymandias seemed to be operating on a bigger scale than even Mayor Wilkins had.

On to part 11 and the big confrontation with the bad guy.

**Six Minutes Ago**

One of the minions the Divine Glorificus had sent out to look for the Slayer came running back, out of breath, as though the Slayer herself was chasing her. As soon as she saw Glory standing in the kitchen -- she absolutely_ refused_ to seat herself anywhere in this pigsty of a hellhole -- she ground to a halt and began panting heavily.

"Divine . . . one . . ." she began. "I . . . think we've . . . think we've . . ."

"Well?" Glory asked impatiently. "Spit it out. I don't have all day."

"Sorry . . . O Radiant one . . . but I've been . . . sprinting for . . . the better part . . . of fifteen minutes. We found . . . where the Slayer is hiding . . ."

"You what? Why didn't you come back and tell me this sooner?"

"Because the shapeshifter . . . saw Derk, Mesh and Wort . . . and tracked them down . . . And killed them. I had . . . to stay hidden until I knew . . . she wouldn't catch me. Then I ran back here . . . as fast as I could."

"Where is the Divine One's Key?" Doc said.

The minion gave them directions. "Good," Doc said. "Minions --"

"No," Glory said. "I'm not waiting for these brain-dead morons to pack themselves into the vans, By then, the Slayer and my Key could be halfway to . . . to . . . Doc!" she said, snapping her fingers. "Help me out here!"

"Washington."

"DC or state?" One of the minions asked.

Glory told him, "You. Come here."

As the minion approached, he said, "It is an honor to die at your --"

Glory interrupted him by throwing him into the wall. "Yeah, yeah. Been there, done that, killed the guy who sold me the t-shirt. Doc. You said you brought extra outfits. Does that include a pair of tennies?"

"Actually, yes, Divine One," the sorcerer said. "Why?"

"Even if I'm about to get my Key there's no way I'm going to be running down the streets of this no-horse town in three-inch heels. Do you know what that does to your feet?"

"Not from personal experience," Doc said. They should still be in the car. Come with me, Divine One."

"The rest of you!" Glory said. "Be ready to clear out of here and find a spot to perform the ritual. Go!"

As they walked out, Doc said, "Don't you plan to kill them?"

Glory said, "Honestly? Not unless I have to. I'm not feeling so well at the moment, thanks to Benjy and his conscience and the fact that I haven't been eating as much as I should. I'm going to need to save my energy for the ritual. So fun as spreading the Slayer's guts all over the street would be, unless she makes it easy on me it's not gonna happen."

Then she swapped her heels for tennies, and began running towards her Key.

**Now**

Daria and Dr. Vaughn went back to the house. Everyone was gathered outside, except for Spike and Anya. "You'll never guess where Anya is," Jane said as she walked up.

"Given your tone," Daria said, "I'm not sure I want to." Jane explained anyway. "That's not so strange," Daria said.

Jane's eyebrows rose. "It isn't?"

"No. I've rejoiced in the smell of a dead animal many times." After a beat, she added, "Usually after it's gotten to a nice medium rare."

Jane grinned and said, "I don't think this is quite the same thing."

"Perhaps not. But as long as she isn't circling over it, it doesn't really bother me."

Buffy interrupted the conversation. "Okay!" She said. "I think that's more or less it. Let's everyone get into a vehicle and get going -- what's that?"

Daria closed her eyes. She heard it too. Like someone moving at a tremendous speed --

She caught on about a half second before Buffy did. "Dawn!" she yelled, "Run!"

Everyone looked at her with a quizzical expression on their faces, but before they could ask any questions -- and before Dawn could get more than a couple of steps -- Glory was there in front of them.

"Hi," she said. "I'm here to pick up a package."

**One Minute Ago**

Damn.

The entire chapter --

Moore had played everyone, and played them well. Faith would've been willing to bet that not one person in a thousand had caught on.

She sure as hell hadn't. Laney, maybe, what with being an artist at all. When she looked back at the chapter, she could see the evidence there.

But it wasn't something she'd seen coming.

Cameron Kim stuck her head in the room. "Everyone needs to wake up," she said.

Faith nodded and the shapeshifter left.

She reached over, woke up Jane and Trent, and said, "Uranium in the drinking water."

**Now**

Buffy said, "Dawn! Keep going. Will!"

Willow started muttering a spell, but before she'd gotten more than a word or two out Glory had run past them. She said, "No, Dawn. Stop." Glory picked the struggling young woman up and said, "Thanks for keeping her warm for me," and ran off back down the street.

Buffy dropped to her knees.

Behind her, she could hear people coming up behind her and gasping in disbelief. Some of them were starting to cry.

Not Buffy.

Buffy began to laugh.

Willow said, "Buffy?"

"She's hysterical," Anya said bluntly.

"No, she isn't," Daria said.

"I don't know how it is in your world, Spock," Xander said, "But the normal reaction to a tragedy like this isn't laughter."

"That's because this isn't a tragedy," Buffy said, standing up.

'How can you say, say that?" Tara said.

"Because Dawn's safe."

"I was wrong," Anya said. "She's not hysterical. She's delusional."

"No, she isn't," Dr. Vaughn said.

"And how do you know?"

Buffy said, "Because that wasn't Dawn. That was Cameron Kim." Everyone looked at her, unsure how to react. "And Dawn's safe because she's not here. She's nowhere _near_ here." They were slowly starting to figure it out, but Buffy made it clear.

"Dawn hasn't been with us since we left Los Angeles."

X X X X X

Watchmen, Chapter 11

Nite Owl: "Christ, you seriously _planned_ all this mad scientist stuff? I mean, when was this hopeless black fantasy supposed to happen? When were you planning to do it?"

Ozymandias: "'Do it?' Dan, I'm not a Republic Serial villain. Do you seriously think I'd explain my master-stroke if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its outcome? I did it thirty-five minutes ago."

X X X X X

Afterword: The rules with a twist are, don't cheat the reader. Don't have a narrative character lie to the reader to stop them from guessing what the twist is. Mislead, but don't lie.

In this case, every narrative viewpoint character except Glory knew that "Dawn" was actually Cameron Kim. So they could _call_ her Dawn, but not refer to her that way in the narration, because they knew better.

I think I pulled this off.

The biggest hint was in the chapter _Fearful Symmetry_ -- another _Watchmen_ reference. The chapter was written reflectively, including mirroring some of the writing. The only thing that didn't mirror entirely was that Buffy talked to Cameron Kim in the first half of the chapter, and Dawn in the second. That was as plain as I dared to make it.

The next part will contain "Deleted Scenes" from earlier in the story, explaining how they pulled this off.


	42. Deleted Scenes

Author's Note: How it happened.

Disclaimer: The Buffy characters were created by Joss, the Daria ones by Glenn, the original ones by me.

X X X X X

Lynette Vaughn watched to see how everyone reacted to the news. Rupert Giles spoke first. He said, in the voice of deadly calm before the storm, "What?"

"I'll explain once we get back inside," Buffy said.

Of everyone else -- well, Spike's reaction couldn't be measured; the last rays of the setting sun had yet to disappear from the horizon, so he was still stuck inside the garage. But Xander, Anya, Giles, and Tara looked confused, irritated, or both. Jane Lane looked confused, but she also had an expression that seemed to indicate that she appreciated that a great joke had been played, even if she didn't quite get it. Trent Lane was stone-faced. But then, Trent Lane was always stone-faced.

Only Willow seemed to have any idea what was going on. "Of course," she said. "That explains the spell."

"It does," Buffy said. "Now, if we stand out here while everyone yells at me we're going to draw a shitload of attention, and I'm not planning on spending the evening getting questioned by the local cops when we really have better things to do. Come on. Dr. Vaughn, could I borrow your phone?"

"Or course," she said, handing it to her. When it became clear to everyone that neither Buffy, Daria nor Dr. Vaughn were going to be giving them any immediate explanations, everyone except Buffy went inside the house.

Lynette knew who Buffy was calling, of course. When she got inside, a few seconds behind everyone else, Daria was already fending off questions from everyone not named Lane; except for Willow, they were all speaking at the same time, Tara politely, Spike substantially less so. Jane was standing with Daria. Lynette moved to join them.

Giles turned to them all and said, "Enough." They went quiet within seconds. "Now, Miss Morgendorffer," he said with the same deadly calm he'd used outside. "You will explain to me what's going on, and you will explain now."

Jane shrank a bit from the words. So did Lynette, who hadn't quite realized until this point how truly dangerous Rupert Giles could be. Daria, for her part, seemed unfazed. "No," Daria said. "I won't. Perhaps you missed the part where Buffy said _she'd_ tell you what was going on. If so, I suggest you have your ears checked."

"Do you think this is funny?" Giles asked.

"No. I think this is deadly serious. But no matter how you threaten me, I'm not going to tell you. And, to bring this down to the grade school level that the rest of you seem to already be at, you can't make me."

"I'm willin' to give it a test," Spike said.

"I'm sure you are, Spike," Buffy said from the doorway. "But maybe we could ratchet down the tension here to, say, Israel-Palestine levels? In the meantime, there's someone I'd like you to hear from." She looked at Lynette.

"The button on the left," Lynette said.

"Thanks." She pressed the cell phone's speaker button. "So, how's it going?" she asked.

"How the hell do you think?" Dawn Summers' irritated voice came out of the other end. "You stick here with someone I don't know -- did you know Angel's not even back yet from wherever he's gone to? And you don't even call to let me know you're okay --"

"We're okay," Buffy said. "And we didn't really have a chance to call."

"Whatever. I'm glad to hear you're okay, though. At least at the moment."

"So Glory didn't, say, just kidnap you?" Buffy asked

"Not unless Glory is a fifty-year old man who looks vaguely like Danny Glover," Dawn said.

"Thank you," Buffy said. "I'll call you back in a few minutes."

"Please do," Dawn said.

After Buffy hung up, Giles said, "While we're all grateful to hear that Dawn is alive and well and several thousand miles away from here, the question is this: Why didn't you trust us with this?"

"And why _did_ you trust them?" Spike asked.

"Because I needed to have as many people as possible think that Dawn was Dawn to fool Cameron Kim," she said. "The fewer people in on the secret, the better off we'd be."

"Which explains why you had me cast both of those spells on everyone," Willow said. "The one I understood. We couldn't say that someone still existed. But we couldn't say that Dawn was the --"

"Key," Daria supplied after Willow tried and failed to say the word.

"Right," Willow said, "Not because Cameron Kim would be watching us from afar, but because she was right there with us."

Daria suggested, "Maybe now would be a good time to remove the spells, since there's no longer a point to them? If Cameron Kim hasn't figured out that Dawn is the Key by now, she's never going to."

"Right," Willow said. She took a couple of crystals out of pocket and smashed them both. "Dawn's the Key, Faith still exists," she said. "Spell broken." Willow's lack of irritation intrigued Lynette

"And if we're talking as few people as possible, why them?" Xander asked. "No offense, Daria, Dr. Vaughn. Really."

"None taken," Daria said, then muttered not quite _sotto voce _into her jacket, "Schedule Harris disappearance for next week." Xander glared at her, but Lynette got the impression that if Daria had managed to survive Rupert Giles at his worst, a glare from Xander Harris wasn't going to bother her in the least. And it didn't.

"One. Because if you knew she wasn't Dawn, you might have acted differently around her. No matter how hard you tried. Daria and Dr. Vaughn didn't know Dawn; they couldn't have tipped Cameron off by how they acted. And of course, Cameron was never going to see Faith."

"That's hardly it," Anya said.

"No. Look. Do you want me to tell you this from the beginning?" Nods all around. "Okay, then. Listen carefully."

**Deleted Scenes: Load, Aim, Fire**

Though exhausted almost beyond the ability to say, it took Buffy a while to fall asleep. She kept thinking about how she was going to protect Dawn: from the Knights, from Glory, from everyone.

Of course, she thought sleepily, the only way to actually protect Dawn was for her not to be there.

And while she was at it, she'd like a million dollars and a bazooka. It's not like you could rustle up a convincing duplicate on a moment's notice . . .

Holy shit.

**Deleted Scenes: Upstairs, Downstairs**

Cameron Kim was most of the way to the Hyperion when her phone rang. She looked down at the caller ID, assuming it was Lilah Morgan with last-minute instructions, but it wasn't. It was Lynette Vaughn's number. Puzzled why the psychiatrist would be calling her, she picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

It wasn't Lynette Vaughn. It was Buffy Summers.

"I need you to do me a favor," Buffy said.

"What?"

"Not over the phone. When you get to the Hyperion, I'm going to out you publicly, and then we need to find a way of getting you upstairs with Daria and Lynette Vaughn for a meeting."

"How?"

"You'll know when you hear it," Buffy said. "I'm guessing as a shapeshifter you've got something of a knack for improvisation. Use it to talk your way up. I'll give you some time to get settled. See you in about five minutes."

"See you then," Cameron said. As the cab dropped her off in front of the Hyperion, she hung up her cell phone.

X X X X X

After Buffy disconnected Lynette Vaughn's cell, she hovered near the top of the stairs, trying to remain unobtrusive.

She was there for two reasons: Obviously, she wanted to mark when Cameron Kim came in, but she also needed to catch Willow and Tara before they went downstairs. If they didn't appear in the next ten minutes or so, she'd knock on their door.

No need. Willow and Tara approached the top of the stairway. Tara seemed to be in better shape, though still exhausted. Buffy motioned them back a bit. They stopped, and when Buffy approached, Willow said, "Is something going on down there?"

"Not at the moment," Buffy said. "But in a few minutes, yeah. Can you do a spell that stops people from saying certain things?"

Tara said, "That's a, a selective muting spell. It's relatively simple -- only needs a couple of simple herbs and a piece of fabric. Why do you need it?"

"Because I want to make sure that Cameron Kim can't overhear any of us saying that Dawn's the Key

**Deleted Scenes: Secret Origins**

Cameron said "Well," as though she were about to go into her history.

"Before we get to that," Buffy said, interrupting them, "I have a plan."

"Yes," Cameron said. "You mentioned that on the phone."

"Plan?" Dr. Vaughn asked.

Daria said, "Your guess is as good as mine. Perhaps we're about to invade Poland."

Buffy said, "I want you to stay with us -- but I don't want anyone to know you're with us."

"I can't really make myself small enough to pull that off," Cameron said.

"Not really what I had in mind," Buffy said. "I want you to take the place of one of us."

The shapeshifter jumped to an obvious conclusion. "Daria?"

"Hey, wait a minute," Daria said.

Chuckling slightly, Buffy said, "Good guess, but no. You two are here because I want someone besides me to know about it. And the reason it's you two is because if anyone else knew, they might treat her differently." She looked at Cameron Kim. "I want you to replace my sister."

"I see what might be considered a slight flaw in your plan," Daria said. "If they know Dawn, won't they be able to tell the difference?"

"I'm really good at impersonating people," Cameron Kim said, and shifted into the form of Dawn Summers.

"Physically, yes," Daria said. "But the words? The feeling?"

"Give me a little time to talk with her," Cameron said. "I'll get her well enough. This _is_ what I do for a living, after all."

"If you say so."

"Yes," Cameron said in Daria's own voice. "I say so. I had thought that perhaps my long years of experience might count for something. I see I was mistaken."

"Not bad," Daria admitted. "Can you do Bette Midler?"

"More importantly," Dr. Vaughn said, "Can you do Dawn Summers?"

Cameron-as-Dawn whirled around and said, "Buffy! Why are you _letting_ them make fun of me? I mean, I _thought_ you were supposed to be keeping me safe. Not, you know, making me a target for their insults."

Dr. Vaughn and Daria looked to Buffy, who said, "Eight out of ten. You should talk with Dawn for a few minutes."

"Good idea," Cameron said. "And I hate to have to ask you this, but I have to: Does this mean that you sister is the Key?"

The question she'd been dreading -- but since it was obvious, she'd also been expecting it. "Of course it doesn't," she said, hoping she sounded convincing. "She's my sister. I want to keep her safe. Keeping her here in LA while Glory chases us is the best way to do that -- and lets you function as our secret weapon."

"Makes sense," Cameron said, after just enough of a delay to make Buffy very nervous. "And what happens to me?"

"Huh?" Buffy asked.

"How are you going to explain the four of us going upstairs, and only the three of you going back downstairs?" Cameron asked.

Buffy chuckled ruefully. "You know, I didn't think of that."

"We didn't like what you had to say," Daria said. "Then we hit you over the head, tied you up, and left you in a closet."

"And if I have to save you down the road if the Knights or Glory show up?"

"You're a very forgiving person," Daria said. "No. I'm kidding, of course. You'll follow us. You'll track us, with only Buffy, Dr. Vaughn and I knowing who you are. And, of course, we're keeping you away from anyone who might be the Key -- and away from me, because of course you're still suspicious of me."

"But I just said --"

Daria said, "I know. But that's not what we'll tell _them_."

"Good idea. And as for what we do with Dawn," Buffy said, grateful to Daria, "Dr. Vaughn? Here's where you come in."

"I'm going with Daria," the psychiatrist said firmly.

"I wasn't suggesting you weren't. But your _husband_ is here. Do you think he'd object?"

"That depends. How much do I get to tell him?"

"As much or as little as you think he'll believe," Buffy said. "If Angel were here, I'd leave her here in a heartbeat. As it is, I'm improvising."

"I can't see why he'd say no," Dr. Vaughn said, in a tone that indicated he wasn't going to say no if he knew what was good for him.

"Good. Any other questions or comments? No? Okay. Cameron, you were going to tell us what makes you you . . ."

**Deleted Scenes: Follow**

Buffy asked the other three to stay behind while she went into Dawn's room. She walked up and knocked on her sister's door. "Yeah?" A sleepy voice said from inside the room.

"I'm coming in," Buffy said. "Hide the porn."

"Ewww," Dawn said as Buffy opened the door. Her sister was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a bit bleary-eyed. "What do you want?"

"We've come up with a plan to keep you safe," Buffy said.

"Safe is good," Dawn said. "What is it?"

"You're not going to like part of it," Buffy warned.

"It's your plan," Dawn said. "Of _course_ I'm not going to like it. It could keep me safe, make me a million dollars and get me a date with the cutest boy in school and I wouldn't like it."

"I'm serious, Dawn," Buffy said. "Because it means you're not going to be coming with us. You're going to be staying here?"

"In the Hyperion? By myself? You want to leave me here alone and defenseless?"

"No," Buffy said. "I want to keep you alive and well-hidden while the rest of us leave a big noisy trail stretching across the country."

Dawn said acidly, "I think your plan's going to fail when Glory notices that I'm not actually with you."

"She's not going to notice."

"She's stupid, not blind."

"People a lot smarter than she is have been fooled by Cameron Kim," Buffy said. And hoped. Like Willow. And Giles. And Tara.

"You're serious," Dawn said. Buffy nodded. "Aha!" she said after a second. "I just thought of something."

"These are the days of miracle and wonder," Buffy said.

"Ha ha. Anyway, right now Glory doesn't know I'm the Key. She thinks it's Tara."

"Even her stupidity has its limits," Buffy said. "If she sees us leaving LA without you, true, she might not jump to the obvious conclusion. But she might. And I'm not risking your life on a might. Or the world, for that matter."

"You're really putting me ahead of the world?"

Buffy sighed, "You can't not have gotten that the easiest way to stop Glory from trying to go home is for someone to kill you."

In a small voice Dawn answered, "It hasn't."

"The thought of doing that hasn't even crossed my mind," Buffy said. "I've never considered it. Not for the tiniest of instants. And if anyone suggested it to me, I'd --" Realizing she was working herself up, Buffy stopped, took a breath, and said, "I don't know what I'd do. But it wouldn't be pretty. And would probably involve chainsaws."

"I'm not more important than the whole world."

"You _are_ the whole world."

"What --"

"That's why I'm doing this," Buffy said. "If I take you with me, Glory will catch us, and you'll die. If you're not, she'll catch us, and you won't die."

"You're that sure she's going to catch you?"

"She's a god," Buffy said. "So, yes. With luck, we'll be able to stop her. If not, you'll be safe, at least."

"Do I have a choice about this?" Dawn finally said.

"Sure. You can complain about it, or you can accept it." Dawn grumblingly accepted it. "Good." Buffy gave her the details and told her not to pack.

"Don't pack?"

"Cameron Kim has to wear your clothes. Take your money, but leave everything else."

"I'm changing my mind," Dawn said.

"No, you're not. Also: Cameron Kim is coming in to ask you questions. Answer anything she asks."

"Anything?"

"_Almost_ anything."

X X X X X

Buffy went back upstairs and into Dawn's room. "You've had ten minutes," she said. "Is that enough?"

"I think I've told her enough embarrassing stories for the moment," Dawn said.

"I didn't say you could tell her embarrassing stories."

"You said, and I quote, 'Answer anything she asks.'"

"Sure. Throw that back in my face." As the shapeshifter got up, Buffy said, "I wish we could have come up with something better, but --"

"But this was the best you could do. Yeah. I get it."

"Start calling the Hyperion tomorrow," Buffy said. "And when Dr. Vaughn gets up here, be ready to go. We don't want anyone to see you sneaking out." To Cameron, she said, "Let's go."

"Big sisters are mean," Cameron said.

Dawn gave the shapeshifter a thumbs-up as they left.

**Deleted Scenes: Fearful Symmetry**

When Lynette Vaughn came upstairs, she ran to her room, picked up her suitcases -- already packed -- and came back to Dawn Summers' room. She knocked on the door.

The young woman was standing there. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess," she said.

"Let's go, then," Lynette said. "We'll talk more in the car."

When they got to the hall, Buffy and Cameron Kim -- already in Dawn's form -- were standing there, keeping one eye on the other rooms in case anyone poked their head out while Lynette and Vaughn were still in the hotel.

They didn't. They made it out to Lynette's car with no issues.

"I realize this is hard on you," Lynette said as they pulled out. "But --"

"Of course it's hard!" Dawn exploded. "My sister and almost everyone I care about are going across the country where they're going to be chased by a hellgod who wants to capture me and maybe destroy the world in the process. And I'm going to be stuck in a house in LA with a guy I don't know -- and I'm not even going to know _anything_ that's going on. _Anything_." Just when Lynette thought she was done, Dawn finished with, "And I don't even have any clothes."

"If I do something about that, will it help a little?" Lynette had no illusions that it would make the situation substantially better. But maybe it would alleviate a little of the girl's anxiety.

"Yeah."

"If there was something I could say to make the situation better, I would," Lynette said. "But you're right. You know they're leaving you here to keep you safe, but it doesn't make it any easier. Not knowing whether a loved one is safe can be one of the most traumatic experiences to happen to someone. There's nothing I can do to make it easier. Except buy you the clothes."

She let Dawn pick where they shopped, within limits, but gave her a time limit. When they got out of the store, she seemed marginally cheerier.

Now it was time to explain things to her husband.

"Will?" she began as soon as he picked up the phone. "I have a huge favor to ask --"

Will was amenable. Thank goodness. Dawn settled in to their guest room as best she could, and Lynette gave Will the number of the Hyperion and told him to call it, and that if someone named Cordelia, Angel or Wesley answered, to tell them he had Dawn Summers and to call Lynette on her cell phone.

Before she left, she went to the guest room and hugged the young woman. "There's plenty to do, plenty to eat, and plenty to read," Lynette said when she pulled clear. "We'll come back for you."

"Buffy doesn't think so."

Lynette had no idea how Buffy could have said that. "Buffy's wrong," she said.

"I hope so," she said resignedly. "No, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to try to get some sleep."

Lynette left.

X X X X X

Buffy touched on what happened from then on, but the point had been made. "Right now was more or less the first chance I had to call her," Buffy said. "Any questions?"

"So when 'Dawn' disappeared into the woods," Willow said --

"She probably waited until she was out of sight, switched into an animal shape, and came bounding out to help us at just the right time. I don't know for sure. None of were actually there."

"I'm amazed she, she didn't figure out Dawn was the Key," Tara said.

"She didn't want to," Dr. Vaughn said. "I'm convinced of us. She had to suspect it, especially when one of the Knights called the Key a she in the battle at Soldier's Delight. But she didn't _know­_ -- because she didn't want to know."

"I assume the murderous rage has come to an end?" Daria asked.

"For the moment," Giles said. "I reserve the right to change my mind, though."

Trent Lane said to Jane. "Are you understanding any of this?"

"About half."

"Hmmm. Got me beat."

"Okay," Buffy said, "Now that we're done with that, let's go rescue Cameron Kim." Blank looks all around. "What? You didn't think we were just going to let Glory kill her, did you?"


	43. Glory of Lawndale High

Author's Note: A mild amount of authorial license here. I wanted to have the final battle take place here ever since I began writing the story, so just assume the building is tall enough, okay?

Disclaimer: Sunnydale denizens the property of Joss Whedon. Lawndale residents belong to Glenn Eichler. Original characters are mine.

X X X X X

Cameron Kim had been expecting something like this to happen -- vaguely ever since Buffy Summers had asked her to assume the form of Dawn Summers, but concretely since Lilah Morgan had reached the conclusion that Dawn was indeed the Key.

If she'd needed any more proof, she had it now. She doubted she was going to have the chance to call Lilah and tell her anytime soon, though.

For the last couple of days, Cameron had been consciously avoiding drawing any conclusions about who the Key was. She'd had suspicions; she would have had to have been brain-dead not to. But Lilah had told her to find out who the Key was -- a sufficiently vague instruction that had given Cameron plenty of leeway into trusting the evidence of her eyes only.

Thus violating the spirit, if the not the letter, of her contract with Wolfram & Hart. But that was a contract she had always lived up to the letter of, anyway. She didn't want to think of Mrs. Krueger being ordered to kill the young woman. The way Buffy and Dawn Summers acted was no act. They _were_ sisters, whether Dawn was the Key or not.

She was surprised that Lilah had just resigned herself to not being able to do anything about this -- the only thing between Dawn Summers and Wolfram & Hart was one middle-aged man. Of course, for all she knew Lynette Vaughn's husband was a tae kwon do master and slept with his twelve-gauge after feeding his pack of pit bulls, but up against Wolfram & Hart that would only be slightly more effective than leaving the door unlocked and posting a sign in the front yard saying "Dawn Summers in third bedroom."

The only thing Cameron could think of was that the attorney had reached the same conclusions Cameron had: that there was no point now to killing Dawn Summers when Glorificus was a continent away and highly unlikely to find her in time.

Of course, that left Cameron more or less screwed. Still staying in character, she'd screamed almost from the moment the hellgod had picked her up; and not all of it had been acting. When they rounded a corner, Glorificus stopped long enough to say, "Shut up, brat, unless you want to spend your last minutes alive being completely unconscious."

"You need me," Cameron said.

"I need your blood, chica, not your mouth. So shut it or I see if I can use your corpse to get me home."

Cameron, of course, had no plans to let it come to that. While she assumed the Slayer and her friends were going to try to rescue her, she wasn't going to rely on that alone. Eventually the hellgod would figure out that Cameron _wasn't_ the Key; when she tried to use her to open the gateway back to her home dimension at the latest. Cameron needed to map out possible escapes well before that, to be on the safe side.

In the meantime, she was going to look and act like Dawn Summers for as long as she could -- the longer they fooled Glorificus, the less time she'd have when she found out to hunt down the _real_ Key.

They ended up back at the Lane house. Dozens of the pseudo-Cardassians Glorificus called her minions were scrambling around trying to pack themselves into two vans that seemed sorely inadequate for the task. As she put Cameron down, the hellgod said, "Don't even think about running. You know how fast I can move. I'll also have my heels on, and having to run in heels pisses me off. And if you think things aren't pleasant now, chica--"

"I'm on a real pleasure cruise," Cameron said. "But no running. Got it." Cameron doubted that even in pronghorn form she'd be able to outrun the hellgod. If it came down to that, she was in trouble.

In the meantime, an older man came out of the house. He seemed oddly out of place, although Cameron couldn't place how. He was looking at Cameron oddly.

Of course. Cameron wouldn't have been very good at her job if she didn't have the ability to cold read a situation now and again. Learning to fly by the seat of your pants was a crucial skill in any impersonation. This man wasn't looking at her lustfully, hungrily, irritably, or with any recognition of who she actually was. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something.

Which meant that Dawn Summers had met him before -- and not in a situation where he would have come off like the villain he had to be if he was working with Glorificus. So, as venomously as she could, Cameron said, "What are _you _doing here?"

"Miss Summers," he said. "It's good to see you again. Pity it has to be under these circumstances."

"So I suppose the chances of you being here to save me are zero?"

"If there were a number less than zero, I would say that," he said. "I do wish I'd recognized you as the Key when you and the vampire came. It would have saved us all a lot of work." He paused and then added, "Did the spell work, incidentally?"

Cameron was dumbfounded. "You're asking me about the spell?"

The man chuckled saying, "Yes, I suppose the timing's a bit off. Still, I do take pride in my work, and resurrection spells aren't the easiest things in the world to set up. So. Satisfy an old man's curiosity. Did you successfully resurrect your mother?"

He didn't seem to be trying to trick her. So. Cameron vaguely remembered that Dawn and Buffy's mother had died in February; if Dawn and "the vampire," presumably Spike, had tried to bring her back to life, would Buffy have helped it or tried to stop it?

Her instincts said that Buffy wouldn't have wanted that. Hoping she was right, she said, "Fine. It would have worked but my dumb sister made me stop."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry it wasn't able to help you."

"If the two of you are done with the reunion," Glorificus said. "We have somewhere to be."

"Just give me the directions," Cameron said. "I'll meet you there."

"Funny, sweetie. No. You're riding with me." After a second, she added, "C'mon! It's your last ride. At least you get to have it in a limo. Show a little gratitude."

"That's exactly what I am showing," Cameron said as she climbed in. "At least you're not making me ride with the horde out there."

"Even I'm not _that_ mean, chica," the hellgod said. "So," now addressing the sorcerer, who'd climbed in across from them, "Any idea where we can pull this off?"

"How about back in Sunnydale?" Cameron said.

"Believe me, Miss Summers," Doc said. "I would have preferred to do it that way. But your sister's insistence on dragging you across the country means we're going to have to improvise. It may make things --" he pulled out a knife --"More painful."

"Rude!" Glorificus said. "I was asking Doc, not you. Speak when you're spoken to." At least Cameron now knew the sorcerer's name was Doc. What he was doing with Glorificus wasn't as clear; he seemed too intelligent to be one of the horde, but too devoted to the cause to be a mercenary.

"Right. Apologies, Divine One. Unfortunately, I haven't had the opportunity to study a map of the city. Our requirements are simple, fortunately: A building with a flat roof more than two stories off the ground. They don't seem to be common around here, but they're not nonexistent. We could even drive to Baltimore if you like."

"No," Glorificus said. "The more people around means the more people to cause problems -- and we're running short on time. I don't want to do this tomorrow night. We'll just drive around until we find a building of the right size and go from there."

Well, that was a bullet dodged, at least. The Slayer would have an easier time finding her if she was still in the area.

As for any escape plans, she'd have to wait until she saw the building they ended up in. If she could manage to bluff Glorificus and her followers up to the time that they started to bleed her to open the portal, she would. But she'd have to have a pretty good escape plan after that.

About fifteen minutes later, the hellgod said to whoever was driving, "Pull over."

She and Doc got out, but nor before telling Cameron, "Remember: Running in heels makes me very cranky."

As she shut the door, Cameron muttered, in keeping with Dawn Summers' character, "And right now you're so cheerful and good-natured."

"I heard that," Glorificus said.

Cameron looked out the window and saw --

Lawndale High?

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus wasn't actually sure blood from the little bitch's corpse would do her any good, so she couldn't actually carry out her threat to kill her. At least not yet, anyway.

_Did you say something, Benjy?_ She taunted her "brother."

_What would the point be? You leave, I get my life, and then I feel guilty for the next sixty years for letting you kill this young woman. But I certainly don't have to be happy about it._

_I don't care whether you're happy or not, as long as you stay in there where you belong_.

Ben didn't say anything else. "So," she said to Doc. "What do you think?"

"I suppose at this time of day it's likely to be almost deserted," he said.

"Yeah, you're probably right, but I'm kind of hoping a few people are still in there."

"Hungry, Divine One?"

"Damn skippy," she said. "Is the roof high enough?"

"It is. And I suppose there'll be enough material inside to build the platform we need."

"Good. Then it's settled." She went over and pounded on the doors of the two vans. "Out!" she yelled.

The minions scrambled out of the vans. There were about thirty of them or so. "Okay," she said. "You four go find some wood and some tools to build a platform. Everyone else, scatter and capture anyone left in the school. Kill them and I'll be _very_ cross with you. I need to eat." Five seconds later she said, "Now!"

They scattered.

In the meantime, Glory went back and collected her Key. "You don't have to carry me," the girl said.

"You promise not to run?"

"Where would I run to?" she said.

"Good point. But just in case you're thinking about it," and she leaned in and said directly into the Key's face, "Don't."

"I know, I know. Or you'll beat me up, be cranky, maybe kill me, yada yada yada. You really should come up with some original threats."

Glory laughed. She liked this girl's moxie. She walked over to one of the vans and said, "Sweetie, when you can do this --" and she punched a hole in the side of the van -- "You don't need to _be_ original."

Then they walked into the building.

The minions had already captured someone -- a sour-faced hag who really could have used some makeup. And _someone_ to do something with her hair. "I don't know what you're doing," the woman said, "But this kind of behavior is unacceptable. _Un­_-acceptable. When the authorities arrive, and oh believe you me they will, they'll --"

"Boring!" Glory said, then stuck her hand in the woman's head.

After Glory was done feeding, the woman said, "Glory, glory of Lawwwndale High."

Whatever. Glory shrugged and told the minion. "Make sure she doesn't go anywhere. We're going to need some cannon fodder."

Then she and Doc went to the roof. High up, for a high school. There was a small structure up there and they shoved the Key into it. Over the next couple of hours, the minions brought up a half dozen or so people, mostly teachers. Glory drained their mental structures and felt, at least for the moment, a lot better.

The minions reported that one of the teachers, some wild-eyed freak, had gotten away. While she supposed she should be beheading them or something, she really didn't feel like it. Besides, it was one person. What could one person do?

There was one weird moment. A dark-haired young man was brought to her, wearing shoulder pads. "What's this?" he said. "Are you guys new teachers? I used to go here! I was the QB!"

"We found him in the janitor's closet, your wondrous divinity," the minion said.

"I don't care where you found him," Glory said, and stuck her hands in the man's head.

Something was wrong! She wasn't getting anything.

The young man laughed. "That kind of tickles," he said.

Glory frowned and tried harder.

Still, nothing. "Hey!" the man said. "Watch the hair!"

Finally, she gave up. "Put this one with the others," she said.

As the minions led him off, Glory said, "What happened? I'm not full."

"It is rare, divine one," Doc said, "But apparently you've found one of the few human beings on the planet who simply has no appreciable mental structure."

"It's not like I really needed him, anyway. How are your preparations going?"

"The magic is focused," he said. "Once we put the Key on the platform and bleed her, the gateway will open."

"Once I'm done getting back my old position, I'll send Benjy back here to you. After you get hem set up, you can come get your reward." She still planned on giving Ben his life back. It's not like she'd be using it any more.

"What about the minions?"

"Any who survive? Sure, they can come. I may think they're all morons, but they've earned their pay." What she'd have them do, she wasn't sure; but she'd find something. There was always room for more errand runners and lackeys.

Doc would be coming into some big-time power. Not that he wasn't powerful already, but once she was back home where her own powers would kick major ass, he was going to get a serious upgrade in his spell-casting abilities.

"In the meantime," Doc said. "Once you go through the portal, I believe I will be getting myself away from the immediate vicinity as quickly as I can." He smiled. "It is likely to be undergoing some serious redecorating."

It was maybe another hour or so before the structure was done and Doc declared they were ready. She went and collected her Key. "Take off your shoes," Doc said before they put the Key on the platform.

"What?"

Producing a knife from somewhere, he said, "Look, I have to take the blood from somewhere. Might as well be your feet," Doc said. Then he took off her shoes, forced her out onto the platform, and cut the soles of her feet.

To the girl's credit, she didn't scream. Not once. "And now," Doc said triumphantly. "Your gateway home should be appearing any second now."

A minute on and still no portal. "Doc?" Glory said.

"I don't understand it," he said. "Everything's set up correctly. I 'm sure of it. The platform is high enough off the ground, the magic was prepared, and she's bleeding --"

"Maybe she's not bleeding enough," Glory said.

"Twice as hard as necessary. I don't understand it."

Unexpectedly, the girl laughed. "That's because you're all really stupid."

Then she became someone else.

"Son of a bitch!" Glory yelled. "You're that damned shapeshifter."

"Guilty," she said.

"A minor setback only, Divine One," Doc said.

The shapeshifter laughed. "Hardly. The Key isn't even in this time zone."

Glory walked onto the platform and picked the shapeshifter up. "Tell me where she is."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" She laughed again. "We've kept you busy chasing us while your Key's had a long time to disappear so far, so fast, that you'll _never_ be able to find her in the time you have left. Face it, _chica_: You lose."

Glory said, "So do you," and threw her as high and hard as she could.

Then she screamed.


	44. Be PrePARED

Author's Note: Drawing things out a little. Another _Daria_ character gets some PLAY here. Thee GUESSES who it IS.

Disclaimer: _Buffy, Daria_, the original characters; Joss, Glenn, me.

X X X X X

"Of course not," Giles said. "But how were you suggesting we find her?"

"Well, I'm going by the assumption that she's not going to go very far," Buffy said. "At this point she's got just over a day to get this done, and I can't see her delaying it any longer than necessary."

Anya said, "Ah. And we were going to use that helicopter we so conveniently brought with us to do an aerial search."

"Or perhaps that homing beacon you had so opportunely installed?" Giles said.

"Neither Glory nor her minions are exactly what you'd call quiet," Buffy said. "If we look around, we'll find them." She clapped her hands. "So let's pack up and head out. Lane siblings, I think the threat to you is over for the moment, so we can drop you safely off at home. Okay?"

"Let me guess," Jane said. "We're going to end up there either way, right?" Buffy allowed that they would. "In that case, no objections. But if you're all really going to fight that woman, try to live through it. I actually like some of you."

"Yeah," Trent said. "Living's good."

"Then we'll live," Buffy said. "Moving on . . ."

Daria admired Buffy's confidence, and wished she felt some of it herself. While Buffy was trying to seem like she was on top of things -- and pulling it off, at least to some extent -- this was where there plan had ended. No, they weren't going to let Glory kill Cameron Kim, if they could help it; helping it was the issue. If this ended up with everyone driving and running madly through the streets of Lawndale, so be it.

Still, if she publicly doubted that it would work, then possibly others would as well. And she wasn't going to let that happen. Daria wasn't a leader, but she could appreciate what it took for one to be effective. Faith in their abilities was a major factor.

She walked over to where Willow and Tara were standing and said, "My knowledge of magic lies primarily in pop culture. I'm wondering if there's a simple way of tracking Cameron Kim down -- or Glory, for that matter."

"Simple? No," Willow said. "If we have the right tools, maybe. Right, sweetie."

"Right," Tara said. "Like, something that belonged to her, or, or some hair would be better -- no, wait. That might not work for a shapeshifter. At, at least not one as versatile as Cameron Kim." She looked at Daria. "Do we have anything that belonged to _her_?"

Daria frowned, then said, "Wait a minute. Buffy."

Buffy turned from where she and Giles had been talking and said, "Yes?"

"Do we still have Cameron Kim's cell phone?"

A bit puzzled, Buffy said, "Sure. Why?"

"Our friendly neighborhood magic-users might just be able to use it to help track down Cameron Kim." A beat, then, "And if that fails, they can always call for pizza."

Buffy tossed over the phone, and Daria handed it to Willow and Tara. "It, it would work better if we had something more personal," Tara said. "And, um, we're also not going be able to do this in the back of a van."

"Right," Jane said. "Spell party, my house. I'll spring for the pizza."

Trent said, "You will?"

"Sure. Why not? It's not every day you get involved in potentially saving the world. The least I can do is buy a couple of pizzas."

"And in the meantime, the rest of us can go look around to see if we see any sign. Daria, Dr. Vaughn, Spike, Xander: We'll go look. The rest of you, try to come up with a tracking spell, and call if you come up with anything."

They got into the two vehicles and headed back to the Lane residence.

Spike noticed it first. "Well, if we wanted to know where Glory was hiding, I think we have our answer." He pointed to a minion body lying half-hidden at the front of the house. "Looks like the god of bad home perms is lettin' her temper show."

Willow was more practical. "Bring it inside. We might be able to use it to trace Glory."

Jane and Trent went inside; the sound of muffled swearing could be heard from inside.

"They trashed the place," Jane said.

"How can you tell?" Anya asked.

"Because what Trent and I had set up was a cunningly arranged system designed to mimic a house that hadn't been cleaned in three weeks. Now it looks and smells like the inside of a hippo house."

"Be thankful," Daria said. "It could smell like the inside of the hippo."

""Surprisingly, my gratitude for that fact isn't as large as you might expect," Jane said wryly.

"Well, for whatever it's worth," Buffy said, "It probably wasn't Glory herself who did it. She likes things luxurious. I'm surprised she even went into your house. No offense, really. But her standards are very high. It was probably the minions."

"Why yes, that makes me feel a whole lot better. Thanks. I now know to blame a slavering horde and not a fiend from hell," Jane said.

"After this is over," Buffy said, "We'll help you clean up. Now. Is everyone ready?"

Everyone was. Giles, Tara, Willow, Anya, and the Lanes went inside the house; everyone else went to the SUV.

X X X X X

"Okay, B," Faith said. "What's goin' on?" They were driving at night -- still seemed like Lawndale. She was in the second row of the SUV, with Doc Vaughn driving the car and Spike next to her. Xander was next to her, and B was in the back.

"Long story short?" B said. "Glory kidnapped Cameron. Willow and Tara are trying to whistle up a spell to track them down while we go out and see if we see anything unusual."

Xander said, "Whoa, hold it, and just a cotton-pickin' minute. You told Faith?"

Spike sighed. "She already mentioned it, whelp, back when she was giving us the rundown on how the shapeshifter took the niblet's place. Didn't exactly stress it, though; not to say I blame her."

"DM told me," Faith said. "Kinda hard to keep secrets from yourself. Anyway, I needed to know, you know? We're still tryin' to keep the knowledge that I exist out of the hands of the bad guys. Not lookin' forward to dodgin' a series of assassins. And I bet Wolfram & Hart knows some that would make that Mrs. Krueger chick look like an amateur."

Xander said, "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He took a deep breath. "And speaking of things that make sense, is someone paying attention to where we're going? We're going to look real silly if Willow calls us to say they have a tracking spell and we have to say, 'we'll be there as soon as we figure out where we are.'"

"I've got a good sense of direction," the doc said. "And I'm not simply driving down random streets. I'm doing this methodically."

"It'd be easier if we had a guide," Xander said.

"Well, it ain't like either of the Lanes were going to come with us," Faith said.

"Exactly," B said. "It might have made searching easier, but we wouldn't want to round a corner and find Glory waiting for us, and have to worry about keeping them safe." She shook her head. "In my head that sounded a whole lot less harsh."

"On behalf of the Lanes, I'm sayin' I ain't offended," Faith said. "That's on the off chance you were worried, B."

"Do we know anything about this spell Glory's going to be using to head home?" Xander said. "I mean, are we going to have any clue beyond 'horde of hobbits with skin conditions?'"

"I've run across a few portals in my time," Spike said. "You and me shared one briefly, Slayer. Anyway, they tend to be big and showy. Unfortunately, that's not going to help us much right now, because unless the shifter's been hidin' a bigger secret than we thought her blondeness ain't gonna be opening any portals. And if we did see any evidence, it'd likely be too late anyway."

"Horde of hobbits it is," Xander said.

They skipped past the still-open shopping centers; someone would have noticed them. According to what B said, minions weren't exactly hard to miss.

Still, even where they were looking, they were finding jack squat. When Red called and said that she and Tara had managed to piece together a tracking spell, it was something of a relief. They turned around and headed back -- though on a different road. "We may as well check on our way back," the Doc said. "The more area we cover, the better."

Doc must've had some prophet in her. A couple of minutes later, a wild-eyed man burst out of some nearby woods and yelled, "Stop!" as he walked in front of the SUV.

The Doc stopped and rolled down her window. "Thank GOD I found someone," the man said. "LOOK. I NEED your help." Yes, really was SCREAMING every few WORDS.

"What's wrong?" B said.

"What's wrong? SOCIETY is going to HELL in a HANDbasket, that's what's wrong. We live in a WORLD where grey-skinned PUNKS can invade a SCHOOL and where NO ONE resists but ME."

"Grey-skinned punks?" B asked.

"Yes," the man said. "They came IN about a half HOUR ago and started RAMPAGING like hoodlums at a BRITISH SOCCER MATCH. Fortunately, the three who came for ME were no match for my VIETNAM-trained COMABT skills, but there were too MANY for me to OVERCOME on my own. So if you could CONVEY me to the AUTHORITIES, because pathetic as they ARE," I've got no one else to TURN TO."

"Hop in," B said. "What's your name?"

"Anthony DeMartino."

"Well, Mr. DeMartino," B said, "You've got someone else to turn to now."

"MUCH as I APPRECIATE the thought, Miss--"

"Summers."

"Miss Summers, I DOUBT the five of YOU would be able to help much. No OFFENSE. Civic-MINDEDNESS is rare these days, and I DON'T want to DISCOURAGE it."

"No offense taken," B said cheerfully. "We have any iron bars in here?"

"Sorry, Hercules. Fresh out," Spike said.

"Then you're going to have to wait, Mr. DeMartino. But we will help you. We promise. And if you don't believe us once we get where we're going, we'll take you to the police. We promise."

"Very WELL," the man said. "But the longer you TAKE, the more damage those PUNKS are going to DO."

"And now for the hard part," B said.

"What's that?" the Doc said.

"Who wants to be the one to call Willow and tell her she's been doing that tracking -- thing --" carefully avoiding the word spell, Faith noticed -- "just for the exercise?"

Xander shuddered. "We're probably better off waiting until we get there. There's safety in numbers."

X X X X X

Anthony DeMarTINo -- Lynette couldn't resist -- was a fascinating man, if the brief conversation they had on the way back to the Lane residence was any indication. The vitriol and anger the man used almost unconsciously as a relief from the tremendous stress he seemed to be putting himself under masked someone of genuine intelligence who seemed to care about others. (Someone who didn't care, at least in some way, wouldn't have been so insistent on finding help and going back to the school to save the other people there.)

When they parked in front of the house, DeMartino said, "Isn't this the LANE residence?"

"It is," Buffy said.

"Hold it," he said. "YOUNG lady. You TOLD me that you would show me PROOF that you could HELP me. I think I'd LIKE to see that now."

Buffy nodded and said, "Xander, Spike. Go tell everyone what's going on."

"What've we done to piss you off?" Spike said.

"Easy there, big guy," Xander said. "You can hide behind me if you're scared."

Spike snorted, but Lynette noticed that he followed Xander into the house.

"Now," Buffy said. "I don't really have time for fancy demonstrations. Faith?"

"Whatcha got in mind, B?" Buffy was standing at the back of the SUV.

"Go to the front," Buffy said.

"WHAT do young ladies think you're DOING?" Mr. DeMartino asked.

"Givin' you the proof you need," Faith said. "On three, B. One, two, three." And they picked up the SUV and moved it fifteen feet or so back on the driveway."

"HOW are the two of you ABLE to do that?"

"The explanation would take longer than we have," Buffy said.

Turning to Lynette, the man said," SO. If THEY can lift a truck, I'm guessing YOU can THROW it?"

Lynette smiled. "No. I'm just a psychiatrist."

"Very WELL. I look FORWARD to retaking Lawndale High with all of you. I APPRECIATE strength and the WILLINGNESS and KNOWLEDGE of when to use it."

Lynette suspected Buffy wasn't going to want him to be in on the attack; she also suspected that it would take being locked in a closet to keep Anthony DeMartino from joining them.

When they walked inside, Lynette noticed the sour look on Willow's face, but the young witch didn't say anything. Mr. DeMartino expressed surprise. "Miss Lane. MR. Lane. This is your residence?"

"No, we're just the world's most successful squatters," Jane said.

Mr. DeMartino chuckled for a moment. "Every ONCE IN A WHILE, I miss your sense of HUMOR, Miss Lane. For all that you and your BROTHER got C's, you at LEAST had SOMETHING of a BRAIN in your HEAD."

"Thanks. We have them flown in from Sweden."

The man chuckled again, then looked at everyone else. "I MUST say," he said, "You don't seem like any SPIES or MERCENARIES I've EVER heard of. Still, if you're what I have to work with, I will do my BEST." He sat down on the couch. "What's the plan?"

X X X X X

Mr. DeMartino was bound and determined to join them in "LIBERATING Lawndale High." Buffy didn't have the heart to forcibly leave him behind -- above and beyond the possibility of his actually calling the police to the school, a bad idea for several reasons.

Of course, what would happen to the man once they got to the school was a different story. Buffy wasn't going to let him near the fighting.

The Lanes, meanwhile, knew to keep an eye or ear out, and if there was any indication that things were going badly, to get the hell out of the neighborhood. The last thing Buffy did before they left was give her Angel's phone number. "If we don't come back for any reason, call him. Tell him everything you know."

Of course, how Glory would react to being fooled determined the strategy they were going to use. They didn't have a lot of time for strategy -- and keeping Mr. DeMartino distracted while they hashed out the magical aspects was also a problem. (That Jane Lane had recognized him removed the possibility of him being the mystery caller.) Still, the odds weren't in the favor of Glory's reaction being all sunshine and puppies.

Maybe evil puppies.

In any event, Buffy was fairly sure they'd be able to hear her yelling in Cleveland. An angry Glorificus was dangerous, but was also predictable. They had to take advantage of that.

This was where the DagonSphere came in. Willow and Tara were also frantically working on something else that might weaken Glory, but they weren't being too free with the details, "in case this one, you know, not so successful." They had some of their regular spells ready also. Willow was ready with the force fields and the telekinesis, and Tara with the dust spell. Not so much damage with this one, but "After all, you know, she needs to see."

They weren't so much worried about the minions. They were cannon fodder. There were a lot of them, but that was pretty much their only advantage. A flamethrower would have been helpful, but they didn't have any of them available. And no convenient army bases around to steal one from, either -- not that they had the time.

That left the wild card -- whoever it was had taken the phone away from -- from -- from Ben back at the Hyperion. What his role was, they weren't sure. Was he something of a power or simply a well-spoken flunky?

Unfortunately, they'd only find out when they encountered the man. They were going by the assumption that he'd be trouble. It was safer.

They made a couple of other arrangements. The only ones to fight Glory physically would be Buffy, Faith, and Spike, with one exception. Everyone else would be limited to fighting minions.

Briefly, Faith called Daria up and they told her what was going on. She seemed to approve of the plan, with one caveat. "Her fighting style seems to rely mostly on her being a lot stronger than everyone else," Daria said. "She's not much on technique."

"Virtuosity in combat isn't going to win us this fight," Giles said.

"No. But intelligence in combat might," Daria said. "Glory is faster, stronger, and overall more powerful than we are. The one advantage we have is our intelligence. We're using it now, to plan for the attack. And that's terrific. But all the preparations in the world aren't going to matter if you don't have time to set them up. You have to prepare for not being prepared. It may come down to out-thinking her. Remember that."

Buffy had to acknowledge the point.

And then they were off.

The arrived at the high school within ten minutes and got out.

Just in time to see a human figure be tossed from the roof, and the loudest and longest scream they'd ever heard.

Glory.

Seconds later, Glory was there in front of them. "Okay," she said. "Who's next?"


	45. More Than the Sum

Author's Note: An unused chapter title: Like a Roc. But I think you'll see why I couldn't call it anything else.

Disclaimer: This is what, part 45? Does anyone really think I own anything but Cameron Kim, Lynette Vaughn, and the storyline by now?

X X X X X

Oddly enough, being thrown from the roof of the building was something of a best-case scenario for Cameron Kim.

Glorificus could have strangled her, broken her skull with one punch, or literally ripped her limb from limb. Instead, she'd thrown her about as far as she could.

That gave Cameron a bit longer to figure out how to do something she'd never been able to do:

Learn to fly.

X X X X X

Right after the divine Glorificus had tossed that damned shapeshifted off the school roof, she saw the freaking _Slayer_ and her friends driving up down below.

Good. Just what she needed to work out some of her frustrations. She turned to Doc, said, "Get down to the ground as fast as you can and bring the damn minions with you, and ran down through the school as fast as she could.

Before they were even completely out of their cars, she stopped, faced them, and snarled, "Okay. Who's next?"

The Slayer yelled, "Scatter! Get ready!" and took something from a bag at her feet. Whatever it was, it wouldn't hurt Glory.

Suddenly, the Slayer tossed it to her. Out of instinct, she caught it, ready to throw it back in the little bitch's face, when she started -- hurting? Hold on. Nothing could hurt her.

She looked down and began to swear. It was that damned Dagonsphere the monks had had. And it. Freaking! _Hurt_!

That changed things. If she just threw it back at them, even if she did break the Slayer's skull in the process, they'd just use it on her again. Couldn't have that. As she felt her strength fading, she took the sphere in both hands and crushed it into powder.

But, damn it to the nearest hell dimension, now she felt like she hadn't drained those teachers at all.

Still plenty strong enough to deal with these people, though. "Okay, missy," she said. "Now that you're out of tricks --"

Which is when the SUV hit her.

X X X X X

She knew one thing for sure:

No bird would be enough. To the best of her knowledge, and she'd done a lot of research, the largest bird to ever exist was a relative of the vulture called the teratornis. But even at the maximum guessed weight, it wasn't anywhere close to being 123 pounds. Sure, she could _try_ to take a bird's form, but all that would do was, maybe, allow her to slow her descent a bit.

And she needed to do more than that.

There were also dragons and other supernatural flying things; but Cameron had never been able to imitate them. Check that. She could imitate the look, but not the abilities. Nothing the size of a dragon is going to be able to fly without magical assistance; and that kind of assistance Cameron didn't have. Even a 123-pound dragon would have plummeted to the earth like a rock.

Nor like a roc, which she also couldn't take the shape of.

So that left one thing and -- she looked down -- maybe five seconds to figure out how to do it.

Pteranodon.

It wasn't that Cameron had never actually tried to take the shape of a pterosaur; but she'd never had the guts to try to fly. Because, unfortunately, failure would mean that she would either be dead or seriously broken, and while she could help her own healing process if she was conscious, plunging 75 feet or so to the ground wasn't usually conducive to maintaining consciousness.

So. Wings extending 25-30 feet. Long head. Hollower bones.

And for god's sake, hurry.

X X X X X

Buffy noticed: Xander was thinking on his feet. She had no idea why Glory had just stood there and let Buffy throw the Dagonsphere to her, but she wasn't about to complain.

Seconds after the hellgod smashed the thing to powder -- guess that blew their chances of using it again, but she hadn't been counting on that in any case -- Xander came plowing forward in the SUV, hitting Glory at maybe 25 miles per hour. Enough to knock her down and away, at any rate.

She saw minions and one old man beginning to boil out of the front door of the school. "Bleedin' hell," Spike said.

"What?"

"That's Doc. Sorcerer. Demon posin; as human. Always thought the bloke was one of the good guys. Or at least harmless. What the hell's he doing with her blondeness?"

"Sorcerer?"

"Yeah."

"Dangerous?"

"Could be."

Damn. "Then we can ask questions later. Willow! Watch out for the guy with the white hair. Demon sorcerer."

"Right," Willow said, and tried to angle around the now-charging minions.

"Everyone else," said is Glory got to her feet. "Minion patrol!" Damn that they hadn't had the time to get Anthony DeMartino out of the line of fire, but right now she couldn't spare anyone to keep an eye on him, much less knock him out and leave him in the car, which is what she'd intended to do.

The minions might be comparatively harmless, but they outnumbered everyone else more than three to one, and only Giles was an experienced fighter. (Which was no shot at Xander's field time or Lynette Vaughn's black belt, but while combat prowess might not win them the war, it was pretty damn helpful. As for the teacher: If Mr. DeMartino could be believed, he'd served in Vietnam; but that was decades ago. Buffy had no idea how he'd do, but at the very least hoped he wouldn't get hurt.)

Thinking on your feet. Daria was right.

As the minions charged, Tara blew dust in their faces -- more dust than she'd ever done before. Buffy only hoped that hadn't exhauster her supply.

Then she didn't have time to pay attention any more. "Spike, Faith --"

Faith was already on it. As the Hellgod stood up, twice as mad as before, Faith took her flail and wrapped one end around Glory's left leg, then jerked. Once again Glory went down, but this time stood up before Faith could hit her a second time.

"What the hell did I do to you?" Glory said. "I mean, I never even freaking _saw_ you before a couple of days ago."

"I kinda get cranky when people try to kill friends of mine," Faith said.

"And I get cranky when people _run me across a continent!_" Glory yelled, then grabbed Faith around the neck before the other Slayer could swing the flail again.

Whatever the hellgod was planning to do, she didn't get the chance. Buffy slammed her in the back of the knees with Olaf's hammer. And while the flail was just an ordinary spikeless flail, the hammer was magical.

Translation: It _hurt_. Even a hellgod. Glory went down, dropping Faith in the process.

They couldn't allow her time to get up. That's when she could get fast. So as Faith caught her breath, she and Spike charged Glory. Buffy kept pounding with the hammer, and Spike, weaponless, just kicked her wherever he could.

Then Faith got up and started whaling on the hellgod with the flail.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Willow and Doc circling each other. Sorcerers didn't usually have a lot of magic at their immediate disposal, but that didn't mean he didn't have a spell or two up his sleeve --

Or a tongue in his mouth. Ewww.

Buffy's attention was brought back to Glory when she stood up despite she, Spike and Faith's best efforts, picked Spike up, and threw him into the SUV.

She blocked Buffy's hammer blow with her arm and shoved it back in her face.

As things went black, Buffy saw the hellgod turn to face Faith.

X X X X X

No, that's not it, there's still too much weight concentrated in the main part of the body.

She had to get bigger. Spread it out.

Spread it out so she could fly.

X X X X X

This would be the third time Lynette Vaughn had gotten into a pitched battle in the last few days, and the second time she'd actually fought it one.

These creatures didn't seem as well-armed or armored as the Knights of Byzantium, but there were more of them and they were faster. There were some with knives; Rupert Giles was doing his best to handle those. Only he and Xander were armed, he with a light sword, Xander with a mace that he was wielding competently enough. As for the rest of them, Anya wasn't really a fighter, Lynette was but most of what she knew about weapons involved how to take them away from people, Tara fought better with her magic -- a dust spell, recently cast, had blinded the front ranks of the swarm.

It had startled Anthony DeMartino, briefly; then his eyes had widened and he'd said, "OH. It's going to be like THAT, is it?" Perhaps he'd had exposure to magic before. The man was giving a reasonably good account of himself, for all that his fighting style appeared to be take-no-prisoners blunt charging straight ahead and damn anyone who got in his way.

Lynette wasn't frightened, not for herself, anyway. She was frightened for Faith -- and Daria -- if not so much the world any more, now that they'd successfully carried out their deception. Still, an infuriated hellgod with nothing to lose could still do a lot of damage were she so inclined, and right now she certainly seemed so inclined. The calm and rational rarely pitched people off the roofs of buildings.

She was facing two minions, now; and one of them had a knife.

"You shouldn't have done that to the resplendent Glorificus," the knife-wielder said.

"Done what?" Lynette asked.

"You shouldn't have made the god chase you all over the country. All you needed to do was give her her Key when she asked for it and none of this would have happened."

"Of course, a lot of _other_ people would be dead," Lynette said as the one without the knife tried to grab her. Lynette brought both of her arms outwards sharply as he approached, then punched him in the nose with the left hand. The area was crowded enough at the moment that the minion with the knife couldn't attack her without going through the body of his comrade.

Which wasn't necessarily impossible for these creatures; different races must needs have a different psychology. The hellgod certainly seemed willing enough to sacrifice them -- the dead one back at the Lane house spoke to that -- and they seemed willing enough to be sacrificed -- they were still here fighting, instead of running away, like most people, even the reasonably devout.

Of course, this was the equivalent of getting one's marching orders from Jesus Christ himself, so perhaps the situations weren't that different after all.

"It would be worth it," the knife wielder hissed as his comrade yelled about his broken nose. "She is a god. What are you in comparison?"

"Smarter, if the fact that we got her to chase across the country means anything," Lynette said. "And judging by the quality of her followers, she's a pretty pathetic god anyway, wouldn't you say?"

The knife wielder yelled, "Do not mock the divine Glorificus!" and charged straightforward, just like she'd wanted him to.

A chop to the top of his knife hand made him drop the blade; using both arms, Lynette then grabbed the onrushing minion, and, using his momentum against him, threw him into one of his comrades.

As they both went down, Xander Harris clouted them over the head, smiled, and went back to work.

Willow, meanwhile seemed to be winning her battle with the sorcerer with the twenty-foot long tongue, whoever he was.

And here came another one.

It wasn't an inexhaustible supply, but sometimes it seemed like it.

X X X X X

Here came the ground.

Here came the wings.

X X X X X

Okay, now, Spike was busy peeling himself off the front of the SUV, and B was getting up maybe twenty feet away.

That left Faith and her flail.

This might've been the first time Faith had ever been a fight she wasn't kickass confident she had a good shot at winning.

Didn't mean she wasn't going to try, though.

"C'mon, hellbitch," Faith said. "Bring it on. Just you and me."

"Just the way I like it," Glory snarled. "You know, this little plan of yours? Still isn't going to work. Me and mine, we have plenty of time to make it back across the country, track down little sister, and get me back where I belong."

"Doubt it," Faith said.

Glory charged her; Faith actually managed to dodge, and smacked her in the back of the head with the flail as she went. "You know, you're _really _starting to tick me off with that thing."

"Yeah, 'cause you were so sunny and perky before we started."

"I was in a better mood than this." They traded a few more blows. Either Glory was fading or she was reserving her strength. Faith guessed, fading. This close to the deadline had to be having some freaky-ass effects on her body and mind. Too bad that Ben dude seemed to have pulled a vanishing act. Things'd be a lot easier with him around.

And then Glory was there. Faith punched her twice in the face, doing some damage, but the hellbitch held on.

"You know," she said conversationally. "I've always wondered what it would feel like to drain a Slayer. Now, I get to find out."

She stuck her hand into Faith's head.

Faith screamed.

Glory smiled.

And that's when the pterodactyl hit her.

X X X X X

That was cutting things a bit too closely.

Cameron Kim glided down, missing the ground by maybe a foot, and soared back up into the Lawndale night. She would have laughed, to relieve the tension if nothing else, except she wasn't really sure how.

Having just mastered _flying_, she didn't want to try to master the aerial equivalent of walking and chewing gum at the same time.

She turned to look. Pterodactyl eyesight wasn't bad --

Holy crap.

While the minions and the Slayer's friends were fighting an even battle, and Willow appeared to be beating Doc, Buffy, Spike and Daria were in trouble.

Buffy was down, Spike was injured, and Glorificus was about to try to drain Faith.

Like hell.

She concentrated, swooped down, and crashed into the hellgod, beak first.

Glorificus dropped Faith.

Cameron became an orangutan and started pounding as hard as she could.

X X X X X

She felt a hand shake her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she saw Spike, who hauled her to her feet.

"What's going on?" she said.

"Good," Spike said. "You're okay. When I saw her blondeness stick her hand in your head I was worried you might end up loony as the rest. Right now at least, I'm glad you ain't."

She wasn't okay, though. She couldn't explain how or why --

Looking around, she saw B just beginning to wake up. Then she saw an orangutan striking Glory as hard as she could. "Cameron Kim survived," she said.

"Looks like," Spike said. "Came in just in the nick."

"What's she doing?"

"Buyin' us time," Spike said.

"Good. We need it."

"You feeling okay?" Spike said. "You sound different."

"Gee. A hellgod sticks her hand in my skull, and you're thinkin' I sound different? Of course I sound different! Glory drains people's mental structures. Think about it. In the meantime, get me the hammer. Buffy doesn't look like she's up for using it right now."

"Daria?"

"No."

"Faith?"

"No."

"I'm confused."

"Now isn't the time for long, detailed explanations. Just get me the hammer. I think I can beat Glory. You hang back, protect Buffy. If my maneuver fails, it's up to you and her."

She took the hammer, handed Spike the flail, and waited for Cameron Kim to be done.

Glory's half-second or so in her head had really only done one thing:

Broken down the barriers between Faith and Daria.

She was a Slayer, and a brain.

She was reason, backed by intuition.

She was years of fighting experience backed by one of the fastest-thinking minds on the planet.

In short, she was what she probably could have been, had the Watcher's Council been composed of reasonably decent human beings, and gotten her the help she needed.

And she was more than the sum of her parts.

X X X X X

The Divine Glorificus thought she'd killed this freaking shapeshifter. Guess she was wrong,

Monkey hair! She was being covered in monkey hair!

Grr!

Finally she got a decent handle on the ape, threw it to the ground, and kicked it a couple of times in the head.

At last the damn thing stopped moving.

She looked up and saw the second Slayer facing her, only now she was holding the hammer. "Just because you picked up a new toy doesn't mean you're any more likely to beat you."

"That's right," she said in an even tone. "That ain't the reason. You are. And, honestly, I'd like o thank you for it."

"Look around, sweetie. My minions are swarming your friends, the Slayer's down. All that's left is you and the vampire."

A voice from behind her said, "And me."

And then she felt a hand being stuck into her head.

She slapped it away a few seconds later, but the damage had been done.

The barriers between her and Ben were starting to break down.

Turning around, she saw that damn redheaded witch.

And the witch was smiling. Smiling! "Now," she said. "I want a fair fight."


	46. Less Than the Sum

Author's Note : Sorry for the delay; the main fanfictionnet website wouldn't accept my submissions all weekend. But here it is! Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Joss, Glenn, me: _Buffy, Daria_, the original characters.

X X X X X

Honestly, Lynette Vaughn thought, they'd done a hell of a job. Six people against thirty minions had been whittled down to three against ten. There were a lot of the gray-skinned creatures, but they weren't really very good fighters. Xander and Anthony DeMartino were down, and Anya was guarding them.

Tara wasn't unscathed; she had a long, nasty gash across her right arm, which the witch had done a fast bandage job on so she could get back to helping them. Right now, she was using her somewhat limited telekinesis to trip up the remaining minions and send their weapons flying out of their hands. But she couldn't really fight.

Two on ten was close to overwhelming.

And then, right as three of the minions were about to swarm her, they suddenly went flying. As Lynette stood up, she noticed Willow Rosenberg standing there. Right after moving those minions, she knocked down the ones facing Giles. The man didn't waste time, stabbing every single minion that was unconscious. The conscious ones, finally, were running away. No one bothered chasing after them.

In the meantime, Willow went over to Tara. "Baby?" she said.

"Just a scratch," Tara said.

Lynette walked over and looked at it. "A lot more than 'just a scratch,' unfortunately," she said. "I see another trip to the hospital in your near future. For the moment, keep it elevated and keep putting pressure on it." Tara nodded. The cut was jagged, but shallow. There wasn't likely to be any nerve or muscle damage -- of course, she wasn't really an expert on physical medicine, just the closest thing they had available at the moment. The bleeding was minimal by this point; the only real danger was infection, and that wouldn't be a problem if they got it treated on time.

She would likely end up with a very noticeable scar, though, for the rest of her life.

Leaving Willow to look after Tara -- and watching Rupert Giles go over to see if there was anything he could do about Glory -- she went over to check on Xander and Mr. DeMartino. Xander seemed to be fine; he'd passed out for a second, but he was sitting up when she got there. Probably a good idea to have him checked out, too; this would be his second bout of unconsciousness in the last twelve hours or so. But he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

As for Mr. DeMartino, he was conscious, but his left shoulder was in a position that God had surely never intended a shoulder to be in. It was beyond Lynette's capacity to heal; she knew of people who could pop dislocated shoulders back into place, but she wasn't one of them.

Still, he was in a surprisingly upbeat mood, all things considered. Almost disturbingly chipper, in fact. "Now THAT," he said, "Was more FUN than I've had in a LONG TIME. Even if I DID badly injure MY OWN ARM in the PROCESS." Then he said, somewhat quietly, "I wish I'd known about the magic, though."

"Magic?"

"Don't play DUMB with me, Dr. Vaughn, "It's NOT becoming. I've been aware of MAGIC since a patrol of mine in VIETNAM was taken DOWN by a local SORCERER who shot JETS OF FIRE from his HANDS. The OFFICIAL REPORT said that it was a FLAMETHROWER, but I knew better. After the WAR, I did some RESEARCH on my OWN and found out about the SUPERNATURAL world. Just to SATISFY my own CURIOSITY, you understand. If I REPORTED what I KNEW, most people wouldn't BELIEVE ME, and those who DID would probably try to have me KILLED."

"Not everyone," Lynette said. "We're not going to have you killed."

"So you SAY," Mr. DeMartino said. But he was smiling a bit as he said it. "So. How is the REST OF THE BATTLE going?"

Lynette looked up.

Cameron Kim was lying at the base of one of the few trees in the area, apparently unconscious. Lynette was prevented from examining her by the melee taking place in between them.

Buffy was just, slowly, starting to get up; Spike was guarding her and watching the battle.

The sorcerer, whoever he'd been, was nowhere in sight.

And Faith --

Or was that Daria? Lynette honestly couldn't tell.

She was facing Glory, alone. Please be okay, Lynette thought.

Please.

X X X X X

She was _not going to fight_ yes she was dammit Benjy get your ass back down there _I don't like this any more than you do_ then why are you trying to force your way out? _who's forcing? I can't control this either_ Well we'd better figure out some way of doing it or we're going to get our asses killed _Right now, I'm not so sure that would be a bad thing_ So you're really willing to die to kill me, Benjy? _No. I just don't think it'd be the worst of all possible worlds._ So you'll let me take the body and try to kill this bitch. _I'm not actually trying to stop you._ Grrr! Is this what it's going to be like if we merge? _For about thirty seconds, before they kill us. _ We need t work together_. Why start now and ruin a good thing? We don't work and play well with each other, sis._ Then all you're doing is making things worse_. What can I say? We're less than the sum of our parts._

X X X X X

For about five seconds, she watched as Glory/Ben switched back and forth faster than any normal human eye could tell.

Good thing her eyes weren't human, then.

Then she thought, shit! What am I waiting for? For the hellgod to take control again and start doing her utmost to reduce me to my component atoms?

She had to take advantage now, while the bitch and her alter ego were still literally of two minds about what to do.

She smashed the hammer in Glory's right knee twice before she blocked the third blow. "Back off," the hellgod snarled.

Taking a step back, she said, calmly, "For your information, this is not, in fact, enough. Enough happens when you're dead. Which is something I'm really looking forward to, believe you me. 'cause then I can finally get some sleep."

Of course, she wasn't simply talking to hear herself talk. She was watching Glory now that she seemed to have regained some form of control, seeing how strong the spell was. It seemed that when Glory concentrated she could still do what she wanted.

So, time to break some of that concentration, then.

"Ready for round two?" she said.

"I don't care," Glory hissed. "What that damn witch did to me. I don't care about any of that right now. All I care about is my Key."

"Yeah," she said. "It's a shame that you'll never get to use it to open anything. And here I was hoping for a new car, yo. And there you are, sweetie. You got zonked."

Glory growled and charged. She barely made it out of the god's way. Note to self: Still fast. Not the Flash anymore, but still faster than I am.

Which meant, still stronger.

Which meant that she had to take the advice she'd given B back in the house: Glory was stronger and faster. She was smarter --

But that wasn't the only advantage she had. She was also a Slayer, with a Slayer's instincts. She could outthink Glory while still being able to fight her.

Right now, she needed to make Glory mad. As the hellgod charged past, she tapped her on the butt with the hammer.

Then she jumped back just in time, as Glory whirled and threw a punch that narrowly missed her face.

Then she missed with a second punch.

By now she was bellowing in rage. And the third one didn't completely miss, unfortunately; it caught her on the shoulder. And damn if it didn't hurt like a son of a bitch.

Still, Glory wasn't able to follow up on it, because for half a second Ben flickered in. Not long enough for her to be able to pound him over the head and kill him and end their problems, unfortunately; but it was enough to get her clear.

Good. Keep her good and pissed. Time to hang back for a bit, and let the hellgod make the next few moves.

"I would have expected the punch of a god to be more . . . godly. You know, for a god, you hit like a 5-year old. Which only makes sense, after all: You got the brains of one."

This time the blows were easier to dodge. It confirmed something she'd thought from the beginning. The hellgod might have strong and fast down cold, but she had no fighting skills at all. Odds were, she'd never needed them.

And Ben apparently hadn't bothered to learn, either. Whatever extracurriculars the boy'd taken, they hadn't involved self-defense courses.

So the merging was only hurting the hellbitch. Good. Ain't like she was going to be weeping about that.

"Pathetic," she said. "Why the hell would anyone worship _you_? Only thing you got going for you's a modicum of strength and speed. That's about it. And don't get me started on your fashion sense. I ain't the most fashionable girl in the world, but I still know trailer trash gone upscale when I see it."

That tore it. Apparently, insulting the hellgod directly was one thing, but going after her fashion sense _really _set her off.

You might not have thought she'd've been someone to criticize someone else's fashion sense; but You'd've been wrong. Half of her dressed in tight, trashy clothes, but she didn't just pick the tight leather pants and one-size-too-small tank tops at random. Clothes were picked for effect. As for the other half, in order to be that unfashionable one had to have a knowledge of what fashion actually was. (Shit, back in Highland she'd been fashion editor of the school paper, mostly 'cause of sexism -- she was the only girl on the staff.) She deliberately avoided looking like she knew anything about fashion because honestly, she didn't want to be judged by how she looked, but by who she was. (And, truth be told, there was something of a defense mechanism in there as well. Part of her'd never wanted the attention -- probably why the other part went after it so much.)

"You're complaining about _my_ fashion sense?" Glory shrieked.

"Yeah. I kind of am. See, I know I might come across as kind of trashy, but you're just as trashy as I am. Expensive, contrary to popular opinion, doesn't mean elegant."

Anyway, if she'd thought the hellgod was irate before, that was nothing compared to now. Once again, Glory charged, only this time, she couldn't get out of her way in time. "I. Have. _Great_. Fashion. Sense."

Through gritted teeth, she said, "Yeah. Not bad for a high-class hooker."

Glory started squeezing, but before she broke any bones, Ben flickered in for a moment. "What --"

The moment, however, was what she needed to break the grip. When she landed, Glory was in control again. Dammit. She might need help. Still, in the nanosecond of confusion she had enough time to punch the hellgod in the face. There wasn't enough room to swing the hammer, unfortunately. Which was too bad, because while the punch was now doing some damage, it wasn't enough.

"All I wanted to do was go home," Glory said.

"Next time, I might suggest you call Greyhound. Cheaper rates, and getting a ticket to wherever you want doesn't involve killing anyone. Well, maybe a vamp or two. There was this one wicked time in Vegas -- but you ain't interested in that. Anyway, this is all going under the assumption that there's going to be a next time. And, just between you and me, I see that as unlikely."

She was ready for the hellgod's charge this time. She flipped the hammer so Glory ran into it, then brought the head upwards, smashing her in the chin.

Then, once again, she stepped back. Her analysis of the fight was this: Glory would keep fighting until she couldn't fight any longer. She might still be stronger and faster -- but she was running out of energy. She seemed to be burning up all of her reserves.

Which meant they needed to figure out a way of burning them faster. By herself, she might be able to defeat Glory.

But she wasn't by herself.

The hellgod gut up; in the meantime she said to the people behind her, "Not that I ain't having a blast," she said. "But perhaps those of you not actively involved in caring for the wounded could give me a hand here?"

And the gods laughed.

The two people who broke away from the group were Spike and Willow.

Giles, Anya, and Doc Vaughn stayed behind to watch over Xander, Tara, Buffy, and Anthony DeMartino.

"Hit her," she said. "Hit her hard and often."

Spike began punching her, once, twice, three times, until she grabbed one of his arms and flung him away. As soon as he did, nearby objects began striking the hellgod: Whatever Willow could lift up and throw, up to and including the bodies of several minions. Glory batted them away as best as she could.

"Aim high," she said, and took the hammer and started pounding Glory's knees.

Willow did just that, flinging a succession of debris at the hellgod's face and head. Spike waited for an opening; every time Willow held off, Spike smacked the bitch in the face as hard as he could.

One of the blows to Glory's knees finally hit home when the enraged and near-exhausted hellgod had briefly turned back into Ben. He yelled and went down.

"Pile it on," she said when he turned back into Glory one more time. She and Spike went over and began kicking and smashing her as hard as they could.

Finally, finally, she became Ben again. And this time, stayed that way. "Okay!" she said. "Hold off." She knelt down next to the man. "Is she in there?"

"Yeah," he said. "You beat her. She can't come out right now."

"You know what has to come next, don't you?"

He closed his eyes for a second. "Does it have to?"

"If there were a way of separating the two of you and killing only her, we might take advantage of it. Sucks, but far as I know it doesn't exist. You know what she's done, Ben. You know how many people she's killed."

"I could have tried to stop it," he said. "I could have killed myself. I could have thrown myself off the roof of a building or shot myself. But I couldn't do it. I wanted to live. That's -- that's why I haven't tried to stop her in the last few days. We had a deal: She goes home, I get my life back. I wanted my life back."

By now, everyone capable of walking had walked up to where he lay. "That doesn't speak ill of you, to want your own life," Giles said. "And to be incapable of sacrificing yourself -- many people would be incapable of making that same sacrifice. Heroes can do that kind of thing. Most of us aren't heroes."

"Get it overwith," he said.

"What, you want to die?" Willow said.

"No. But I'm going to."

For a minute, no one did anything. Finally, a voice said, "Oh, come on. This is just torture. And it's the wrong time for torture."

And in so saying, strangled him.

Final delivery of the coup de grace to Ben, aka Glory, delivered at 9:57 PM by:

Anya Christina Emanuela Jenkins.

For another minute or so, no one did anything.

Then Giles said, "Perhaps it's best if we all get out of here. Mr. DeMartino, do you know the location of the nearest hospital?" Buffy began to protest. "I know you don't like hospitals," Giles said. "But this isn't a democracy."

Buffy groaned.

Willow and Anya went to pick up everything they could of theirs, while she, Giles and Dr. Vaughn assisted the injured to the vehicles.

Cameron Kim was still unconscious. She, Buffy, Tara, and Anthony DeMartino went into the van with Giles and Willow. (If they'd waited for an ambulance, they would have had to explain Ben's dead body, as well as the bodies of several minions.)

Dr. Vaughn drove the SUV and, after one final check to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, they all left the battlefield.

X X X X X

"We won," Buffy said. And while a tiny part of her was jealous that she hadn't been involved, it was only a tiny part. They won. Glory was dead.

Dawn was safe.

And that had always been the important thing.

"We did," Willow said.

"Faith kicked ass."

"I'm not so sure that was Faith," Willow said. "I think it was a combination of her and --"

Buffy guessed that Willow was worried about Cameron Kim. "I don't think she can hear anything right now," she said.

"I hope she's okay," Willow said.

"The KOREAN WOMAN who changed INTO the APE?" Mr. DeMartino said. Buffy looked at him suspiciously. "YOUNG LADY, I know magic EXISTS. I'm not going to TELL ANYONE what happened tonight, having no DESIRE to spend the REMAINING YEARS of my LIFE in a mental hospital."

Buffy then said, "Yeah. That's her."

"If you want her to be OKAY, you might want to SPEED UP. It APPEARS as though she's having DIFFICULTY BREATHING."

"Giles -- hurry."

Giles hurried.


	47. Tuvix

Author's Note: Winding down might take a few more parts. Too much to go through in just a chapter or two.

Disclaimer: I own Cameron Kim, Lynette Vaughn, and nothing else.

X X X X X

There wasn't much conversation on the way to the hospital. Everyone seemed kind of happy that they'd won, but were still worried about everyone who got hurt.

Still, hell, they'd faced a hellgod and they weren't dead. So she was calling it an up side.

What little conversation there was centered on Anya's being the one to finally off Ben. She really didn't know the ex-demon well enough to tell whether this was in character for her or not. Xander seemed surprised, though, so she was guessing not.

"What?" Anya finally said.

"You killed him," Xander said.

"Yes. I did. Someone had to. She was an evil vicious murdering bitch from hell who tried to kill you and Dawn and Tara and everyone and I wasn't going to give her the chance to do it again."

"But --"

She closed her eyes. "Xander, I love you, but you have to remember what I did for a thousand years. I've probably got a body count Spike could only dream of. No offense."

"None taken," the vampire said.

"Still, An, there's a difference between killing someone indirectly and doing it with your bare hands."

"People get angry with vengeance demons. Some of them have had spells and weapons and tried to kill me. I've tried to kill them back. Successfully. I don't fight much now because I'm not very good at it. Not because I don't have the experience."

"This was in cold blood --"

"Yes. It was. I'm well aware of that. But this is all part of who I am, Xander Harris. I'm blunt and capitalistic and terrific in bed and capable of killing people who aren't posing a threat when no one else is getting off their asses to do it. Love me, love my character traits."

She said, "Someone did have to do it. And no one else in this SUV could have done it."

Spike said, "If it weren't for the bloody chip --"

"You would've, blondie," she said. "But you couldn't have. Not as long as he was human. I'm not taking shots at you."

"Yeah, I know."

"Still," Xander persisted, "What about --"

"Giles was going to do it," Anya said. "I could tell. No one else could have. And I like him too much to let him do that." After a second, she added. "Does this mean anything for us?"

Xander said, "No. Just give me time to deal."

"It's not something I've been hiding from you," Anya said.

"I know. I think it's more something I've been hiding from myself."

Doc Vaughn shot her a couple of looks along the way, and she'd been around the psychiatrist long enough to know what they were: She was concerned. Wondering if this forced integration Glory'd done was doing her any damage. And maybe also wondering if she wanted to keep things this way.

That last part was something she was wondering about herself. It seemed so right. She was now both Faith and Daria -- the best parts of both. Had she been like this when it counted, she probably wouldn't have killed Deputy Mayor Finch -- and, had she still experienced that moment of carelessness, she sure as shit wouldn't have joined up with Richard fucking Wilkins. She'd've told; she'd've gotten the help she needed.

And there was that third part -- the part she forgot about until she was asleep.

The echo. That little bit of B still inside her.

That was part of who she was now, too. She could feel it. She wasn't particularly aware of thinking like B at any point, but she could detect an echo or two, no pun intended.

This is who she was meant to be. Every fiber of her was telling her that.

But, intellectually, she knew it wasn't.

Faith was the creation of Willard Jay Harbaugh and the worst day of Daria's life. Had Daria moved to Lawndale like she was supposed to, even if she'd been contacted by the Watcher's Council and gotten all the training, she would never have been remotely like Faith. There was no predicting what she would have been like, so speculating was pointless.

Of course, it might not be an issue; might be she'd be forced to stay this way. Just because the sorcerous talents of Willow Rosenberg proved capable of draining Glorificus of _her_ mental structure didn't mean she'd be able to restore he own.

If so, she'd need to think about a name.

Joining the two she had already wouldn't work. Darth Morgenhane sounded like one of George Lucas' lamer ideas. And Faria LeDorffer sounded like a character from an Adam Sandler movie.

Well, that was assuming Red couldn't come up with an answer. And right now, even though Willow was one of the few of them to come through the battle completely unscathed, she'd be willing to bet she had more important things to worry about.

Like Tara. Damn, but that was one nasty cut across her forearm. Lucky thing it wasn't on the other side or the witch'd probably be dead -- and seeing as how she was one of the nicer people she'd run into in the last few days, that would have sucked beyond the telling.

Anyway. Here they were at the hospital.

Be interesting to see how they explained things to the ER personnel.

X X X X X

No one had said much after that. It really didn't seem to be the right time for casual conversation.

Buffy did find time for a quiet chat with Willow and Giles, though, about Anya's killing Ben.

Of all the people --

Well, she wouldn't have been the last person Buffy would have expected. That would have been Tara.

But she would have been fighting it out for second. Blunt is one thing; the ability to kill someone innocent in cold blood is another one.

Giles wasn't surprised. "I was about to do it," he said. "It is not something I would have relished, but I would have done it -- if for no other reason than to prevent you or Daria or Faith from having to."

"Me too," Willow said.

"You, Will?"

"Me, Buffy," Willow said. "Glory was too dangerous to let out again, and I wasn't going to take that chance. Anya just acted before I had the chance to." She then said, "I would have used my telekinesis to do it, though."

Buffy held up a hand. "Not really interested in the details."

"Anya only did," Giles said, "What one of us had to do. Don't think any less of her because of it."

"Not less," Buffy said. "Just -- differently."

Daria had said that Anya had a knack for the obvious.

The obvious thing to do had been to strangle Ben so that Glory would never be a danger again.

And Anya, as always, had seen it first.

From that point on, Buffy kept an eye on everyone in the back -- Tara's bleeding seemed to have almost stopped, but Mr. DeMartino's shoulder was still off center and Cameron Kim was still unconscious and breathing shallowly.

Fortunately, they got to the hospital fairly quickly.

She had said it before and she would say it again:

She hated hospitals.

Hated hated hated them.

This one, however, wasn't quite as bad as most.

If only because the admissions nurses hadn't asked them any stupid questions. They'd taken Cameron Kim in right away and everyone else a few minutes later. A bit too much poking and prodding for Buffy's tastes, but she was back out in the waiting room within an hour.

Verdict: Mild concussion. Since Buffy had had more than one of those in her life, she pretty much knew what to do about it: Mostly, it meant she couldn't fall asleep for another twelve hours or so. Factor in Slayer healing and she could knock it down to six.

Tara was the next to come out, with a large bandage running the length of her right forearm. She was going to be okay, also -- but was going to have a permanent scar. She was warned to take it easy for a while, and not to use her right arm for anything strenuous.

Mr. DeMartino and Cameron Kim were going to be a while longer.

Suddenly something occurred to Daria. Faith. Whoever she was. "Has anyone thought to notify the Lanes that we ain't dead?" she asked. "'cause if no one else's done it, I'll take the job on."

"Actually," Giles said, "Being introduced to you in your current condition probably isn't something best done over the phone. There's no need for all of us to stay here, at the moment."

"I, I wouldn't feel right abandoning Cameron Kim," Tara said. "Or Mr. DeMartino, for that matter."

"We won't be," Willow said. "But, sweetie, you need to take it easy. I'll stay here, along with Giles and --"

"I'm staying," Buffy said. "I know. I hate hospitals. But I'm not going to leave her right now either." For more than one reason.

Eventually, it was settled: Dr. Vaughn, Daria/Faith, Tara, Xander, Anya and Spike would head back in the van, while Buffy, Giles and Willow waited to see what happened to Cameron Kim.

As for Mr. DeMartino, his transport home was taken care of when a pleasant-looking man in his mid-40s came in just before everyone else left. He walked up to the nurses' station and was pointed to Giles.

"Hello," he said. "Are you the people that brought in Anthony?"

"Yes, we are," Giles said. "We were . . . practicing wargames when he suffered his injury."

"War," the man said, and shuddered. "Such a . . . violent way of handling things, wouldn't you say? Anyway, thank you for bringing him in. How did you know to call me?"

"You are Timothy O'Neill?" Giles asked. The man nodded. "He told us to call you."

His exact words had been, "If you MUST call SOMEone, call him. He's not IDEAL, but he at LEAST should prove CAPABLE of driving me HOME. I'll have to ENDURE his INCESSANT GRATITUDE, but it will be MARGINALLY BETTER than spending the night in the hospital." Buffy was fairly sure they weren't going to be telling this to Mr. O'Neill.

"Really?" Mr. O'Neill said with a wide grin. "I never realized Anthony placed so high a regard on our friendship."

Buffy wondered whether it might not have been better for Mr. DeMartino to have spent the night in the hospital.

X X X X X

"I see the world hasn't come to an end," Jane Lane said, opening her front door. "Hail the conquering heroes. I have pizza."

"Is that all you eat?" Spike asked.

"Occasionally I've been known to consume foods with nutritional value," she said. "Then I realize what I'm doing and I stop." She looked behind them. "Is this the wrong time for me to try to be funny? The SUV's right behind you, right?"

"I think we need to tell you what happened," Lynette said. "We'll let you judge for yourself. Do you want to get your brother?" Daria/Faith, so far, had very carefully not said anything.

"Naah. I'll take what you give me and condense it for him tomorrow. He's asleep. Fifteen hours a day is his minimum daily requirement."

They sat down. Lynette noticed that Xander and Anya didn't sit down next to each other. Neither one had talked the entire ride back.

And while they ate pizza -- even Spike had a slice -- they explained what had happened. "Hmmm," she said when they were done. "Hope DeMartino's okay. And Cameron Kim, too."

"Seemed to be nothing worse than a dislocated shoulder. He should be." She couldn't say anything about Cameron Kim yet.

"And as for you, young lady," Jane said, turning to Daria/Faith -- it was going to start getting very annoying to keep calling her that -- "Any ideas what you're going to do?"

"I'm thinking I'd like to sleep for roughly a week," she said.

"After that."

"I have no clue. Tara --"

"Yes?"

"Any idea whether I can be un-integrated?" Whether she should be, was Lynette's question. Neither Daria nor Faith had been ready for this . . . but the blending didn't seem to be complaining. It oddly reminded her of an episode of, of all things, _Star Trek: Voyager_. There had been a transporter accident (since half the problems on a starship of that era seemed to stem from the transporters, Lynette often wondered why they didn't simply use the shuttlecraft exclusively) that combined the characters of Neelix, the gregarious morale officer/ambassador, and Tuvok, the logical Vulcan.

Whoever the actor had been, he'd done a stunning job portraying a blended character. Towards the end of the episode, they figured out a way to separate "Tuvix" back into his component people -- only to be told by him that "I do not wish to die." They forced him to. A hell of an ethical question -- they'd ordered one person to die so that two could live.

Lynette couldn't do that to Daria. Or Faith. Whether or not she'd recommend it rested primarily on one issue: What would Wolfram & Hart do if they found out?

Tara shook her head. "It's mostly Willow's spell. Maybe she might be able to take what she took from Glory and, and put it into you. I'm hoping. But we never really got that far. We were more interested in finding a way to hurt Glory than, than --" Of course, there was the practical matter

"Than to cure her victims. Yeah. Damn. I wonder if the other people Glory drained are going to be okay." Lynette hoped so, too. But since the hellgod's death hadn't restored Daria and Faith to their former selves, she doubted whether it would have done so for anyone else.

Glory had claimed she had come from a hell. If there was a God in heaven, she was surely burning in one right now.

"So do I," Jane said.

And Daria/Faith said, "I get the feeling you're worried about something. Like, maybe, whether I'm still going to want to be your friend when this is over?"

"I wouldn't have said it quite so publicly," Jane muttered. "But, that was a concern. You're not quite Daria."

"Daria enough to still want to," Daria/Faith said. "Trust me on this one. I haven't found enough people I think are worth spending their time with to throw one away just because I ain't quite the same person. I'm hoping you'll still want to do the same for me, honestly."

"Of course." Then she stood up. "If anyone wants to sleep, I'll let you have my bed." To Spike, she said, "No coffins. Sorry."

"Funny," Spike said. "I don't think any of us're going to sleep at this point. Dunno about you, but I'm too fucking wired."

"Wired?" Xander said.

"We just killed a god, youngster," Spike said. "Not the kind of thing that happens every day. _Maybe_ once in a millennium. And we're the ones who pulled it off." He stopped and grinned "Actually, me, Willow, Daria, and Anya over there are the ones who pulled it off. You were busy gettin' your brains beat in by a couple of minions."

Xander realized he was being baited, and ignored it. "I'm more concerned with Cameron Kim."

"Don't get me wrong, mate," Spike said. "I hope the woman survives, too. She probably saved all our lives comin' in like that. Still, though, we faced down a god, thirty minions, and a sorcerer, and we kicked her bleached blonde ass from here back to hell. Don't tell me that doesn't feel good."

"It does," Daria/Faith said. "It would feel better if I knew she was going to be okay, though."

"Point taken. Buncha buzzkills." It was grumbling just for the sake of grumbling, though.

Xander abruptly stood up. "I'm going to call Dawn and tell her we're okay," he said.

"Use my phone," Dr. Vaughn said, throwing it to him. Xander took it and walked off.

While he was on the phone, the house phone rang. Jane Lane got up to get it and said, "It's Buffy."

"I'll take it," Dr. Vaughn said. Jane handed it to her with a slight bow and went back to scoop up what was left of the pizza. "Hello?"

"Hey. Thought you'd want to know. First off, Mr. DeMartino left the hospital a few minutes ago. Grumbling all the way about our incompetence -- but he winked as he left. I think our secret's safe with him."

"So do I," Lynette said. "And second?"

"Oh. That. Cameron Kim died on the operating table."


	48. Contracts End

Lynette Vaughn's instinctive reaction was to utter an exclamation like, "Oh my God," or maybe a simple "No."

She held off because of the sorrow in Buffy Summers' voice.

Or, more precisely, the _lack_ of sorrow in her voice.

This meant one of three things: Either Buffy Summers was callous and unfeeling, and a good enough con artist that she had everyone else fooled into thinking otherwise -- but that would have made her a psychopath, and she exhibited none of the other signs; Cameron Kim's death, somehow, really _was_ good news; or she simply wasn't dead, and Buffy was lying.

So Lynette's response to Buffy's "Cameron Kim died on the operating table" was "Really? So why don't you sound sad?"

Turned out it was a combination of reasons 2 and 3. "Because she only died for a couple of minutes -- the surgeon managed to resuscitate her. Now they're saying that, eventually, she should be okay. Of course, they don't know that once she regains consciousness she'll be able to help heal herself, but she seems to be out of the woods for the moment."

"Good. I'm still not sure why this would put you in a _good_ mood instead of simply a relieved one, though."

"Remember that conversation you and her and me and Daria had at the Hyperion?"

"Considering that what resulted from that was you, me, and all of us dragging the world's largest red herring across Glory's path, I'd say the answer is an unqualified yes."

Buffy said, "When she told us her backstory, Cameron mentioned the kind of contract her parents had -- and the kind she had. A lifetime contract. Once she dies, it ends."

Lynette got where Buffy was going, but wasn't quite as excited as the Slayer seemed to be. "Nice thought, but I'm not sure Wolfram & Hart's going to see it the same way. No, scratch that. I'm sure they won't."

Lynette could practically hear Buffy's shrug through the phone. "They might not. But one thing we've picked up about Cameron Kim: She lives up to her contracts _to the letter._ And as far as she'll be concerned --"

"Dead is dead," Lynette finished.

"Yup. If she was telling us the truth about the way her contract was worded, she should be in the clear now."

"I hope you're right," Lynette said.

"Hope?"

"There's an old joke that's never seemed more appropriate than right now. St. Peter and Satan get into an argument because some of the smell of the fire and brimstone from Hell is starting to reach Heaven. Satan says, 'So?' 'So this is Heaven you dolt,' St. Peter says. 'It's not supposed to stink like Hell.' Satan shrugs. 'I'm not going to do a damn thing about it,' St. Peter says, "Get rid of the pollution or we'll sure.' And do you know what Satan's response was?"

"What?"

"Where are you going to find a lawyer?"

X X X X X

The last thing Cameron Kim remembered, she had hit something solid. She was dimly aware of falling a few feet to the ground.

Since then, nothing.

Until now.

And since this did not remotely resemble anywhere on Earth, she presumed it was the afterlife.

"You are half right," she heard a familiar voice say behind her.

She turned around and saw --

"Father?"

He nodded slightly. "It is I."

From behind him, her mother stepped out and said, "It's _us_. Really, Peter."

"Then this _is_ the afterlife," Cameron said. "So how do I have it half right?"

"Because," her father said, "The tone of your voice and your thoughts indicates that you believe you'll be staying here. Much as we would love to be reunited with you, this is not the case."

Her mother said, "You have other work to do, Cammie." She was the only one who'd ever called her "Cammie."

"Other work?" Cameron closed her "eyes." "So it's true. Wolfram & Hart's reach extends after death."

"You always were imprecise, Min," her father said. "Wolfram & Hart's contract with us ended the moment you signed yours. We have ascended." He gestured around. "Whether you wish to call this Heaven, it is certainly not Hell. Your work for Wolfram & Hart ends the moment of your death."

"But if I have to return --"

Her mother laughed. "If I'm too imprecise, Peter, you're too obfuscatory. Cammie, you don't show up in the afterlife if you're not dead. Now that you've died --"

Cameron smiled. "My contract is over."

"Yes."

Straining, Cameron tried to remember the exact language of her contract. Try as she might, she couldn't remember it specifying that the death that ended her contract had to permanent. "I'm pretty sure they're going to argue otherwise."

"They would not be Wolfram & Hart," Cameron Kim said, "And do otherwise. Still, the contracts are magical in nature. You will not have violated your terms. They will not be able to enforce it by those means. Whether they attempt to coerce, convince, or simply buy you by other means is another matter entirely."

"And if you need a lawyer, there are a _few_ who aren't afraid of Wolfram & Hart."

True. There was that DA prosecuting Mrs. Krueger for her attempt to kill Daria Morgendorffer a few weeks ago. From the scuttlebutt she'd heard around the company, the woman couldn't be bribed, threatened, or blackmailed, and it wasn't important enough for the Senior Partners or any of the politicians Wolfram & Hart owned to flex their muscles.

Not that she did private work. But where there was one, there were certainly others.

Then something her mother said struck her. "Other work?"

"I know," her mother said. "You were hoping that if you ever freed yourself from Wolfram & Hart you'd have some time to yourself."

"I'd at least like to go for that doctorate in biology," Cameron said.

"No one is saying otherwise," her father said.

"Well, not if I have a Destiny," Cameron said.

"Not with a capital letter like that, you don't," her mother said. "That's for chosen ones and champions and heroes. You just have work to do, And people with work to do can also have lives."

Cameron absorbed that. She really did want to pursue her study of mammalian biology -- specifically, to no one's surprise, large cats. "Does this have anything to do with Buffy Summers or Daria Morgendorffer?"

"Yes," her father said. "Daria Morgendorffer will need your help. It is possible that somewhere along the way Buffy Summers will as well."

"Any clues as to what kind of work?"

"Since you're a shapeshifter and not an accountant --" her mother said, smiling.

Cameron said, "Funny, Mother."

"I try."

Cameron started to feel a pulling sensation. Her father took a step forward and said, "There is one more thing. We always taught you to live up to your contracts and your obligations. It is good that you continue to do this. Just remember: Wolfram & Hart does not have the only people who offer contracts."

And then, for a while at least, everything was darkness again.

Followed by a, "Hello?"

X X X X X

"Miss Summers?"

"Yes?" Buffy said. Giles and Willow were asleep at the moment, and she was inclined to let them stay that way. She could say she was running on post-fight energy, or adrenaline, but that would be a lie. She was awake . . . because someone had to be.

The doctor said, "We're not quite sure how she's recovered this quickly, but Miss Kim is awake."

"She is? Terrific!" Now she could start healing herself. Not immediately, Buffy hoped; if the shapeshifter walked out of the ER in the next thirty seconds even Sunnydale doctors would have gotten suspicious. And these weren't Sunnydale doctors.

"Yes, it is," the doctor said. "Considering what her injuries were when she came in --" a broken arm had been the least of her problems; she'd had serious internal injuries. Buffy's ick factor had kicked in when the doctor had mentioned the second organ and she'd blanked which ones out. "--nothing short of miraculous. Given this extent, it's going to be a while before she goes anywhere. But she's asking for you, so you can have a couple of minutes. Just try not to stress her too much."

"Okay, my plan of heartlessly mocking her religion is out."

"Huh?"

"Bad joke."

The doctor smiled, but it was a mechanical smile. "Nurse Franklin will show you the way."

He gestured to a nearby nurse, and Buffy followed her through the intensive care ward. When they got to one particular curtain, Nurse Franklin quietly said, "Like Dr. Zumwalt said. A few minutes only," before pulling the curtain aside to let Buffy in. After Buffy entered, it was closed up behind her.

Cameron was lying there, her left arm in a cast, hooked up to IV's.

"First off," Buffy said. "Thanks. For everything. From back in Los Angeles, to that last-second attack on Glory that gave -- Daria -- time to catch her breath."

"We won, then." It wasn't a question.

"Well, considering you're waking up here -- or at all --"

Cameron grinned. "Good point. Anyone else end up as bad as I am?"

"No, but we had a merry assortment of concussions, contusions, and nasty scars to liven up the night. I think the only two who came through unscathed were Willow and Anya. But no one else died. Or came as close as you did. Speaking about that, welcome back to the land of the living," Buffy said. "And I mean that literally."

"Yeah," Cameron said. "Dr. Zumwalt told me I was clinically dead for a minute or so on the operating table." She smiled faintly. "Long enough to count." Buffy's face must have fallen a little, because Cameron said, "Did I steal your thunder?"

Smiling back, Buffy said, "Well, it's just that I'm supposed to be the one to come up with all the clever schemes. Everyone else is just supposed to ooh and ahh and tell me how brilliant I am." Another laugh. "Of course, when other people tell it, the word clever is usually replaced by suicidal." A second, then, "I am impressed by how you managed to come up with it while you were unconscious."

"I didn't. My parents did."

Buffy frowned. "Dream or genuine vision?"

"Too coherent to be a dream," Cameron said. "I think they were genuinely talking to me from the afterlife. They said I still have work to do. They were very careful to distinguish from having a Destiny with a capital D. Apparently I have to help Daria with something . . . once I finish my current job."

"But your contract expires --"

"Yes. But I'm still on a job until I make my final report in. I wouldn't feel right otherwise. But afterwards --"

"Afterwards." It seemed to be the only word necessary. Changing the subject, Buffy asked quietly, "How's the self-healing going?"

"I could probably leave within a couple of days," Cameron said. "A day or two to regain my strength, then fix my arm and whatever else feels wrong."

"I think they think you're going to be here for a while," Buffy said. "So try not to do it too quickly." Buffy murmured.

"I don't want to stay here a minute longer than I have to," Cameron said. "I don't like hospitals."

"You either?"

"Nope. So, no faith healers handy to explain my miraculous recovery?"

Quirking a smile, Buffy said, "Well, we do have Faith. Kind of. But that's the closest we get." This was what was known as "taking the bull by the horns." Buffy'd been trying to come up with the best way to phrase this so that Cameron Kim still wouldn't think of Faith of having been alive recently. She had to tell her something, unless they simply left her here -- and she'd done too much for them for them to abandon her now.

That didn't mean they were simply going to give Faith's existence up. Even if, right now, she didn't exactly exist anymore.

Or did she?

Too philosophical for the moment. She'd deal with that, and whether Willow could restore her, later.

"Kind of?"

"When Glory stuck her hand inside Daria's head, it mixed up every personality that had ever been in there."

"There were more than two?"

"There was a fragment -- they called it the echo. It was actually patterned after, well, me. This new personality is a mix of every personality that was in there. Some Daria, some Faith, and a little bit of me."

Cameron closed her eyes. For a second Buffy thought she'd fallen asleep. When she opened them, she said. "I think you're lying." Before Buffy could respond, the shapeshifter continued, "Fortunately, I don't know. So I have no choice but to take you at your word."

"To the letter?"

"To the letter."

"Useful."

"It has its moments."

Nurse Franklin opened the curtain again. "Miss Kim needs her rest."

"She's right," Cameron said. "Otherwise, who knows what shape I'll be in when I leave here?"

Buffy caught what she meant, and left.

X X X X X

Xander, Anya, Trent and Tara were asleep when the phone rang. Jane jerked upright in her chair, saying, "Someone turn off that damn alarm."

"That would be the phone."

"Someone turn off that damn phone," Jane said.

She -- and for the moment she had decided to call herself Daria; she'd worry about the other names later -- went over to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Da--Fa--" came B's voice.

"Just call me Daria," Daria said. "Makes it easier for everyone if they ain't trying to puzzle out what my name is. Or you could call me your lord and master."

"Um -- no."

"So. More good news?"

And B said, "Yeah. More or less." Then she detailed the conversation she'd had with Cameron Kim after the shapeshifter had regained consciousness.

"She didn't buy it?" B had come up with probably the best story she could have to explain why Daria was now talking a lot like Faith.

"Nope. But under the circumstances she seems inclined to put as good a spin on it as possible when she makes her final report."

Daria chuckled. "Best we can hope for. You gonna come on back to Casa de Lane or stick it out? I've been told you have a low opinion of hospitals. And by low, I mean: Lower than my opinion of the intelligence of the vast majority of the people on this planet."

"Nope; it's not even that high. But I'm going to stay for a little bit longer. For one thing, Giles and Willow are asleep. And driving and me? Two great tastes that don't go great together. I suppose I could hoof it, but not carrying both of them."

"With Slayer speed, B? You could be here in about three minutes, assuming my estimate of the distance between here and the hospital is right." Slayers didn't -- exactly -- have what could be called superhuman speed; but they could sprint for a shitload longer than people could. If Buffy or Daria entered a track meet they'd be able to run something close to a two-minute mile. "Still, might be unfair to leave them there."

"Yeah. Your end?"

"Sleep or something like it. Me and Doc Vaughn and Spike are still awake, but that's about it."

"I'm awake," Jane said, and promptly fell back asleep.

After a second, B said, "We did it."

"No, I'm pretty sure I left my sleeping potions back in Sunnydale."

"No," B said seriously. "We killed her. We beat Glory. A God. We won."

"I'm sorry. I forgot to take into account your obvious case of traumatic amnesia."

"Be serious for a minute."

"It'll be a strain," Daria said. "But I'll give it a shot."

"This is something I haven't told anyone. A random moment. A couple of months ago at the bookstore. I'd found out not long before that Glory wasn't a demon or other power -- that she really was an honest-to-god god. It's the kind of thing that gets you thinking. A god's not a cyborg, or a demonic mayor snake, or a high-level vampire lord. It's another level of bad entirely. I was in the Magic Box helping Giles one day when suddenly it hit me: I was going to lose. Glory was going to beat me. She was a God. And no matter how good I was, I was just a person."

"You telling me you never once before thought you were going to lose?"

"No. I never once before _knew_ I was going to lose."

"And yet, here we are."

"Yeah. Shows what I know, huh?"

The situation seemed to call for something more than a flip answer. "When you knew this, did you just curl up in a little ball and start whimpering?"

"I was tempted to."

"But you didn't, Buffy. Given your consistency of character, I'm betting you acted the last few days like you've been acting ever since you knew you were going to lose: Like you were going to win. Right?"

"I couldn't let them feel defeated."

"'cause if they did, then the day was over. That's what a leader does, Buffy. You knew it even before I told you in the airport: You're the linchpin here, but you're not a solitary practitioner. You're not Atlas. You have people helping you with the burden."

"I thought you said I _wasn't_ the girl with the weight of the world in her hands."

"Atlas didn't have friends."


	49. Split Decision

Author's Note: The end draweth nigh. A couple more parts should do it.

Then, perhaps, a break from the adventures of Daria and Faith so I can concentrate on Martian Manhunter.

Disclaimer: Except for the plot, Cameron, and Lynette, not mine.

X X X X X

The rest of their stay in Lawndale was brief and, for the most part, restful. (They wanted to get back to Dawn as soon as they could, but they didn't want to leave either Cameron Kim or Anthony DeMartino completely in the lurch. Yeah, they trusted DeMartino, but they'd fought the forces of evil with the guy, so making sure he was okay was fairly important.

In any event, now that they'd kicked the hellbitch's posterior end but good, Dawn wasn't quite as panicked. Thrilled that they'd won, a bit bored hanging around Will Vaughn ("Though I could really spoil _Jill of the Forest _if I wanted to -- I totally could. When you see what Jill does to that Johanssen bastard in episode 10 --") Of course, Daria hadn't seen _Jill of the Forest_ and had no plans to watch it, but she appreciated the temptation. There was a time she might have done the same for, say, _The X-Files_.

You couldn't spoil _Sick, Sad World,_ of course. "Of course not," Jane said later. "It's spoiled already."

They gave Dawn a blow-by-blow account -- Buffy, mostly, some Willow, some Daria. ("Because, you know, your sister couldn't handle it. While I was busy kicking Glory's ass, she was lying down on the job." She was smiling as she said it, though that didn't stop both Buffy and Dawn from sticking their tongue out at her.

Dawn actually, said, "You know, I'm sticking my tongue out at you." Daria's response was, "Thank you for the information. Will you be detailing any other gestures you may be making, or is this a one-time thing?"

"I'm sticking my tongue out at you again."

"Option two. Thanks. Now I know."

"And again."

"Okay, Dawn, Fun's fun. One more time and I'm going to start thinking maybe you're swinging more towards Willow's side of the fence. And, just to put you on notice, that's not my side of the fence. And you're too young for me anyway."

"I'm sticking out something entirely different right now."

"And still with the mixed messages."

"Arrrgh!"

"Okay. I'm done teasing." It was good to tease a little sister again. Even if it wasn't her little sister, and the only thing she and Quinn had in common was above-average hair.

She finished describing the fight against Glory. When she got to the part about Anya killing her -- and then Xander's reaction -- Dawn said, "First, yay Anya."

"No arguments here. Believe me."

"Second, you tell Xander for me that if he doesn't get over it I'll hurt him good when he gets back."

"I'll have Buffy do that. I suspect she has greater validity of threat delivery here."

"Fair enough. And, seriously?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Daria knew this wasn't the time to be funny. "You were in trouble. I'm not going to let someone in _genuine _trouble stay there if I can help it. No matter how much I may tease them about it before, during, and afterwards. I was happy to do it."

She passed the phone back to Buffy after that, and she also promised to "kick Xander's ass" if he didn't get over his upset at Anya killing Glory.

There were other matters. The weirdness at Lawndale High didn't appear as though it was going to be cleaned up. It didn't help matters any that the only surviving witness who wasn't a total whackjob was apparently the only other person on the planet who rivaled those two morons back in Highland for sheer fucking stupidity. If the hospital had any suspicions that Daria or Buffy or anyone else was involved, they seemed to be keeping it to themselves.

The school, meanwhile, was scrambling to find enough replacement teachers to fill out the school year -- and a replacement principal.

They went to visit one of the teachers who _didn't_ need to be replaced at home before they left. The visit confirmed that the man was healing up nice, which was good, because Daria liked that the guy had had the stones to be there at all. It also confirmed, not like they weren't 99 sure already, that he wasn't planning to spill the beans on anything that had happened that night."

"BUT," he said. "It would be APPRECIATED if I might have a PHONE NUMBER I could CONTACT you at if something SIMILAR happens in this town AGAIN."

She and B looked at each other, and finally B said, "Only if you promise not to call us in for minor problems."

HE laughed. "Young lady, I DO know the difference between a swarm of MOSQUITOES and a swarm of HELICOPTERS. Rest ASSURED that I will not be calling you in for something as FRIVOLOUS as a lone VAMPIRE."

B then gave him the number of the Magic Box.

On their way out, Mr. DeMartino said, "It was GOOD to fight alongside BOTH of you. You both APPARENTLY know how to think AND fight -- not like the MORONS and PANTYWAISTS I normally have to DEAL WITH. But I hope you'll FORGIVE me if I say I hope not to DO IT AGAIN in the immediate FUTURE. I'm not sure my BODY could TAKE IT."

The last part was said with a smile. As such, Daria responded with, "Likewise, Mr. DeMartino, We don't think our ears could handle it either." He was self-aware enough to laugh.

The main problem was waiting for Cameron Kim. Daria and B went in to visit her once, and they got the plan straight. Cameron would go back to LA at the first opportunity, give her final report, and announce that she had lived up to the terms of her contract and considered herself a free agent.

"Might want to do that last part from a safe location," B said.

"Such as?"

B shrugged. "I don't know. Jupiter?"

Daria said, "Heavy gravity. And kind of hard to breathe."

Cameron said, "Still beats Wolfram & Hart." Then, after a second, she said, "One thing my Dad told me in my vision was that in order to protect myself I should remember that Wolfram & Hart weren't the only people who offer contracts. Any idea what he meant by that?"

B laughed, "No, but is a typical thing to hear in a vision. Something that only makes sense after it happens."

Daria said, "Hold on a second."

"You think you get it?" Cameron said.

"I think I do. It's simple. You live up to the terms of your contracts. You want to -- be one of the good guys?"

"It might make a nice change," she said.

"Then you sign a contract with one of the good guys."

Cameron said, smiling slightly, "Yeah. That makes sense. Thanks."

Buffy said, "Of course, we wouldn't be able to pay you much. Or anything. But the hours are long, so that makes up for it."

Shaking her head, Daria said, "I was actually thinking of a contract with an actual company. Or perhaps . . . a private investigation firm. I can think of one."

"So you want me to go from working for Wolfram & Hart to working for their worst enemy?" Daria nodded. "Why not. Assuming Angel will go for it."

"I think Buffy and I working together might be able to convince him otherwise," Daria said.

"Oh yeah," Buffy said.

They'd planned to go back a second time, but the plans were derailed when a Wolfram & Hart response team came in and whisked the shapeshifter away. They got a thirty-second phone call saying they'd see her in Los Angeles, and then she was gone.

On this, she and B were in total agreement: They damn well would see her. They were fairly sure Cameron was smart enough not to say anything while she was still in the hospital, but then part of the point of them hauling her back to LA was no doubt so she could heal quickly out of the sight of doctors who might be inclined to ask annoying questions (Like, "How did your arm go from shattered to healed in two days?" Trivial matters such as that tended to arouse physician suspicion, no hinkety-pinkety intended.)

She and Jane and Willow also took a couple of hours and talked about _Watchmen_ after Daria reread the final chapter. Faith had never read it, and there was some part of her that said that it was kind of cheating to talk about the final chapter when she hadn't read it, even though she had.

Most of the discussion revolved around the ending -- whether Ozymandias' plan was about to be derailed. Jane was sure it was, based on the artistic cues in the book. Willow was just as sure it wasn't, because Ozymandias was so smart he certainly would've factored something like that into it. Daria, now, she could see both sides.

A problem she'd been dealing with a lot since the battle with the hellbitch had left her two, two, two minds in one.

When they weren't busy talking about graphic novels, or to shapeshifters, teachers, or annoyed younger sisters, they were trying to figure this out.

Willow and Tara had been busy hashing out the practical aspects. Too busy with them to think about the philosophical parts, which kind of sucked, because Willow was smart -- as smart as Daria -- and Tara somehow had a strong sense of right and wrong that allowed for shades of gray. Rare.

Still, it wasn't like the practical aspects weren't important here. Without them, they were figuring out whether they should just for the mental exercise.

Willow said, "I have this extra energy inside me I'm still not sure what to do with. I mean, I already have a mental structure, but adding in the mental structure of a hellgod on top of it makes my head feel uncomfortable. I can keep it for a while but eventually I'm going to need to get rid of it. I can't eat it like Glory and I wouldn't even if I could. It would probably give me the ickiness of mental indigestion."

"And, and we left of all our mental Pepto-Bismol back in Sunnydale," Tara said. "I told you we should, should have brought it along, but you said, no."

"It's true," Willow said. "I did."

"Let that be a lesson," Daria said. "Never ignore your girlfriend. I never have and, hey, it's worked for me."

"You're kind of straight," Willow said.

"My point," Daria said, "Stands."

They both laughed. Tara said, "When, when we were working on how to drain Glory's brain, we never quite got around to, you know, figuring out what to do with the energy once we drained it. We were kind of pressed for time."

"I'm not blaming you," Daria said. "That was damn sure what allowed us to kill the hellbitch, so I'm hardly going to go blaming you for not spending the time we didn't have working out the ramifications."

So while they dealt with that part of it, Daria and Doc Vaughn and everyone else were dealing with the should. And she made it clear that while she was asking for advice -- rare enough for her that they should've been ringing up the newspaper -- that the final decision was hers and hrs alone. Everyone was happy to let her make it, even if they did have their opinions.

And by everyone she meant everyone -- even Trent Lane, though his contribution was, "You happy?" Daria said she was. "Then there you go. Don't worry about what 'Daria' and 'Faith' would have said as though they weren't here. They are here. In you. And I doubt they'd have had trouble separately with what you're worried about joined."

Spike simply said, "Far as I'm concerned you should stay together."

"Let me guess," Daria said. "Only one personality means one less person to piss you off."

Grinning, Spike said, "Can't say that ain't part of it. I don't trust you and I don't think I ever will." Daria didn't take it like a shot, and she was pretty sure Spike didn't mean it to be one this time. "But this is mostly about how you handled yourself during the fight. From all I've heard and seen, while Faith was a hell of a fighter, she would've just charged in and started whalin' on her blondeness. You didn't. Not that you didn't hit the bitch hard and fast, but you were _thinking_ about how to beat her."

"So for you it's all about practicality."

"Almost everything is," was Spike's response.

Anya, for her part, was uncharacteristically subdued. For Anya, anyway. "Xander?"

"Xander," Anya confirmed. "He says he's willing to work through it but he's not actually working through it. I don't get what his problem is, I really don't. He knew this about me. Or he should have. It's not like I've ever lied about it. Actually, when I talk about my career they usually tell me that that's 'inappropriate talk.' Like there is any such thing."

"You've had the what-the-fuck moment; maybe now's the time for the quiet and mature conversation."

"How do you do that?"

"Saying 'be yourself' probably wouldn't work. Talk about your past, you know? Maybe try not to sound like you're blowing your own horn. No matter how proud you are of the assassination of James Garfield."

"That was a political vengeance. Not my thing." She then said, "Anyway. You want me to tell you what to do?"

'I'd like your opinion, yes. No one tells me what to do."

"Oh, sure they do. But you're like me. You just ignore them. Unless it's something you were going to do anyway."

"You've discovered my secret," Daria said. "Now I'm going to have to kill you."

"Anyway," Anya said. "I think you're fine as you are. I don't think Daria or Faith as they were before this would have had a problem with it. You were a lot more alike than you think. You both put up with only people you thought were worth putting up with, and to hell with the rest of the world. I like that about you. You're both smart, too. I realize you came off differently, but that was all style."

And, she thought, the ex-demon had a point. The differences were more than stylistic, though. Faith's attitude towards sex and Daria's couldn't have been more different. The blending seemed to have more of Daria's attitude; she didn't think the idea sucked for the future, but it was going to be on her terms, with someone she actually gave a crap about. If an itch came, she would scratch it herself, thank you very much.

Still, that even that attitude had come to some kind of accommodation meant that Anya had a point. "Thanks, Anya," Daria said.

"No problem. Thanks for your advice also. I hope I'm able to use it."

"Trust me. Dawn gave Buffy and me strict instructions to kick some sense into Xander if he persists in being an ass about the whole thing."

"Good."

Buffy refused to take part in the whole debate. "Your call," she said. "I'm not going to say a word either way. Because my opinion? Not so important. Everyone else's? Not so important. Yours is the important one. But I'll tell you this much."

"Yes?"

"Whatever decision you make, I'll back you all the way."

"Thank you," Daria said. Then, smiling faintly. "I've made the decision to take your house."

Buffy said, "Not that one."

"The Magic Box?"

"Not that one, either."

"Liar."


	50. The Daria You Were Meant to Be

Disclaimer: Ending a bit slowly, I know. But I had to give this one final decision the attention it deserved.

I think after this, an epilogue.

Disclaimer: Joss, Glenn, me: Buffy, Daria, everyone else.

X X X X X

There were still more opinions to sort out. She was saving the most important one for last. In the meantime, it was Xander Harris' turn. Plus maybe time to threaten a little bit of mayhem if he didn't back the hell away from his hesitations about Anya.

He was still preoccupied, but when asked he took the time to cast his vote for Daria and Faith splitting up. "I kind of had the opposite problem," he said. "Anyone tell you?"

Daria thought. "I don't think so. Please. Clue me in."

"Last year, we were all fighting a demon who had a wand that split me in two."

"Whoever sewed you back up again did a kick-ass job, I have to say," Daria said.

Xander glared for a minute, then said, "Okay. Sloppy wording. It split me into two different people. An ubercool, confident Xander, with all of my good qualities, and a nerdy, geeky, incompetent Xander, with all of my, well, not-so-good qualities. I know, I know. It's hard to believe, but the suave, cool guy in front of you wasn't always this awesome."

"I'm shocked and amazed," Daria said. Then, more seriously: "This wand. You think it might be able to separate me into an individual Daria Morgendorffer and Faith Lehane?"

"I'm not the magic guru, but given what it did to me, I'd say yeah. But unless you want the both of you dropping dead when one of you does, it's probably not a good idea. See, the demon wasn't trying to hit me; he was trying to hit Buffy. And while, yeah, he would've been facing pure Slayer, he also would've been facing pure Buffy, with no Slayery goodness added. A lot easier to kill. SO, sure, it'd probably split you, but you probably wouldn't want to take the risk."

"So why do you think I should split mentally if it ain't likely to happen physically?"

"Because I wasn't me when I was split up," he said. "Both halves thought they were, but they were both wrong. And I don't think you're you when you're together. I'm hardly an expert on the way the mind works -- sometimes I'm not even sure mine does -- but if your two halves are going to integrate it seems to me it ought to happen naturally, at its own pace. Plus, this is magic. You're not going to hear me knocking magic, especially not where Will and Tara can hear me, but I'm not so sure you're going to want to live the rest of your life with a magical effect in your head that maybe someone might be able to take advantage of. That's all."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Now, about this thing with you and Anya."

He closed his eyes. "You, too?"

"Me, too. I don't know what your problem is, Harris, but you've got to make things clear. If seeing her kill someone is going to be an insurmountable obstacle, tell her. If it ain't, tell her that too. But letting her twist like this is just torture."

"I thought I was pretty clear back in the SUV," he said.

"I'm sure you do. But you're saying one thing and acting entirely differently. Look. I don't pretend to be an expert on human interaction. I tried to avoid it as much as I could in both of my personalities."

"What do you call all that sex?"

"A way to have contact while avoiding contact," Daria said. "You can't call what you and Faith did any kind of intimacy. And this isn't about me, it's about you. If you were some random acquaintance of mine, and Anya likewise, I wouldn't give a good goddamn. But neither of you are. I fought next to you; that earns you some points in my book. And I like Anya. I actually do. We might not have a lot in common, but she speaks the truth as she sees it. People like that are damned rare, and I appreciate them whenever I find them." After a pause, he said, "You had to have known she could do that."

"I'd never thought of it," he said. "I'd never let myself think of it. And now I can't do anything but think of it."

"I know you've killed," Daria said.

"Yeah. Vampires. Evil demons. Creatures trying to kill myself or others."

"It isn't that big a gap between that and killing Ben. Look. Could you have done it?" When Xander didn't answer, Daria said, "I propose a thought experiment. The situation is the same, except now you're the only one left conscious. Ben's lying there, but Glory's going to come back within five minutes. No one else's going to be awake in time to do anything about it. What would you do?"

"I know we had to kill him to stop Glory," Xander said.

"Good. Not the question I asked. What would you do?"

"I'd have killed him," he finally said. "And I'd have hated myself for it."

"So your problem with Anya isn't that she killed an innocent man in cold blood, it's that she feels insufficiently guilty about it?"

"Don't oversimplify things," he said.

"Don't undersimplify them," was Daria's response. "Look. I'm not the one to provide easy answers. But you're hurting Anya, and you're hurting yourself, and when Dawn told Buffy and me to kick your ass, I suspect consequences if we don't. Make your choice."

"Thanks," he said. "And I actually mean it."

Back to the debate over the split decision. Jane's turn this time. And she was almost as to the point as her brother had been.

"You sure you want my opinion?" she asked. "Because I'm warning you. My opinion is like a no-u-turn sign."

"Metallic and frequently ignored?"

"No. Once you come across it, there's no turning back. So, once again. Do you want my opinion?"

"You're making this sound real dramatic. Are you about to tell me to go take a flying leap?"

"Oh, good heavens, no. Just making sure that when you ask for the unvarnished truth from me, you get it."

"Asked and answered, Lane."

"Fair enough. I want you to split up. My reasons aren't philosophical, they're not practical, and they sure as hell aren't spiritual. They're selfish. I like Daria Morgendorffer. Not that I don't like Faith. She's a fascinating person, don't get me wrong. But a fascinating person that I have almost nothing in common with except for _Watchmen_ and a fondness for Daria. I don't connect with her the way I do with Daria. And you -- well --"

"I am Daria Morgendorffer."

"Legally, sure. I haven't yet received my law degree, so that's not such a big issue to me."

"Look. I've never been big on the whole emotional thing. A couple of days ago you were worried that I wouldn't like you. Now it's the opposite. I'll tell you what. What say that if I decide to remain Daria Faith Morgendorffer, that we try to get to know each other as we are now?"

"I haven't changed the way you have."

"Rather blasé about the whole 'demons-are-real-and-I-know-someone-who-kills-them' part of this, aren't you?"

"You know what I mean."

"I do. And thank you for your opinion."

"You're welcome . . . amiga."

And next, Rupert Giles. "Ah," he said. "I see that the rounds have finally made their way to me. I presume that you now wish me to render an opinion as to whether you should once again be Daria and Faith rather than who you currently are?"

"Well, I suppose we could simply chat about the weather, but really, how much can you say there? It's rainy, it's sunny, it's cloudy, it's foggy, boy there's a lot of snow out there, there's a hurricane a-comin', and all meteorologists are idiots."

Giles smiled. "You forgot 'Hot enough for you' and its variants, but on balance, I'd call that a reasonably accurate summary of such conversations. Still, I wonder why you're soliciting our opinions. For one thing, from what I know of you individually, neither of you is prone to do so -- you're both highly independent individuals. Surely this is your decision to make, and no one else's."

"And in the end that's what it's going to be," Daria said. "But right now I ain't too certain that I can trust my own opinions. It's only natural for me to want to live, so I'm instinctively gravitating towards that. But other people might have good arguments, and I thought maybe hearing what you guys think might help me figure it out. Yeah, I'll make that final call myself. But I'd like to be sure that it's the right one."

"So the decision has not yet been made?"

"Not at a conscious, intellectual level, no. It's one of the odd balances about being Daria Faith Morgendorffer: Faith was always a lot smarter than she or anyone else gave her credit for, but she was a woman who on the whole tended to follow her instincts. Daria, on the other end, was at the opposite end of the scale: Her instincts about people were usually correct, but she always thought things out. And right now I got instinct and reason, and I ain't sure if I can trust either of them."

"So you are conceding the possibility that at some point in the near future you may not exist?"

"Yes. Painful as it is. But, as I seem to have all of Daria and Faith's memories -- which leaves me only one gap, the gap of April 10, 1997, which neither one of us seems able to consciously recall, and which Dr, Vaughn assures me that at one point under hypnosis I asked her to not let me consciously recall it -- I would presume that, should I once again separate into Morgendorffer and Lehane, I will recall this as well. So in one sense, at least, I'll still be here." She smiled slightly. "It ain't that easy to get rid of me. I'll just be my parts again, rather than their sum."

"Or, possibly, more than their sum. I heard what Spike said to you about the practical aspects of your remaining joined. That your reason and your instinct were able to work together in defeating Glorificus speaks well to the possibility that they could work together under other circumstances. Even now. As someone who has primarily operated on either instinct or reason, you may have this mistaken idea that those who use both have them work in harmony. That is not always the case. But when they do -- in your case, with your tremendous intellect, and more, how _quickly_ you think, and with your instincts, which are better in a fight than anyone I've ever known, save one --"

"Buffy?"

"Buffy," he said. "It was unlikely I was talking about Xena, Warrior Princess."

"I don't know. What I hear about your past, you could've cast a spell or two and run into her."

"My magical misadventures were primarily limited to demon summoning. And I would have been more likely to try to run into Emma Peel."

"Something about a woman in leather, right? I'm well aware of the effects myself."

"I'm sure you are," Giles said. "In any event, the combination of the two is far more likely to be to your advantage than your detriment, whether we are discussing battle or other parts of your life. Trust both. Listen to what both have to say."

"I notice," Daria said wryly, "That you didn't actually state your own opinion."

"No, I didn't, did I?" Giles said.

And finally, it came time to listen to what Doc Vaughn had to say.

"Psychiatrists," she said, "Typically aren't supposed to provide the answers. Ideally, they're supposed to ask the questions and let the patient come up with the answers. In practice, they're often simply the ones who prescribe the drugs while the psychologists and therapists handle the day-to-day counseling. As you may have noticed, I'm not a typical psychiatrist.

Daria faked a gasp and said, "No. Stop. I don't believe you."

"It's true," Doc Vaughn said.

"Of course it is. For one thing, you pay attention to the physical side of medicine."

"When I see a cut on someone's arm -- as in, a knife slash -- I not only want to be able to ask whether it represents a suicide attempt, an attack, or simple clumsiness, I want to be able to tell if it might be infected -- whether I need to refer them on to someone who can treat that. Given that I specialize in criminal psychiatry, I see a lot of injuries, some of them self-inflicted, some not."

"It was helpful during the siege. You also use hypnosis -- something that ain't usual for shrinks, I believe."

Doc Vaughn said, "No. It's not. Far too many of my colleagues think hypnosis is something best left for wacky therapists. My opinion is that I'll use whatever tool I think will help. An unskilled hypnotist can ask leading questions and create the answers she wants to get -- dangerous, especially when it comes to the field of 'repressed memories,' which have led to a truckload of unjustified lawsuits against people and institutions."

"The McMartin case," Daria said.

"For one," Doc Vaughn said. "Anyway, this isn't about me, this is about you. I'm not a typical psychiatrist -- and, in any event, you're not my patient, you're my friend; you're someone I care about. If you want my opinion, I'm going to give it to you."

"I do."

"I think you should remain integrated," she said. After a second, when Daria didn't react, Doc Vaughn said, "You seem surprised."

"I am," Daria said.

"The main worry you've been experiencing, I'll bet, is whether you would be erasing the lives of Daria and Faith by staying as you are now. The main argument in favor, in your head, is that this makes you who you were always meant to be."

"Ah. Not only do you use hypnosis, but telepathy."

"Both arguments are wrong."

"Do tell, Doc."

Doc Vaughn took a deep breath and said, "First off, this is not the Daria you were always meant to be. The Daria you were always meant to be would not have spent three years being anti-intellectual, promiscuous, and criminal. I'm not insulting you."

"'course not. It ain't an insult if it's the truth. Faith was all of those things."

"Daria never would have been. Had Daria Morgendorffer been recruited as the Slayer in Lawndale, she might have been an excellent Slayer, by using both her brains and her instinct. But she would have been nothing remotely resembling Faith." A pause, then, "There's no such thing as the Daria you were meant to be. We aren't meant to be anything. There's only what you are. And the Daria you could have been is unattainable. This is probably the best thing you can get to a replacement -- just don't think of it as predestined."

"I rarely think of anything as predestined," Daria said. "Still, I do think I was copping some of that attitude. Good catch."

"That's why they used to pay me the big bucks," Doc Vaughn said. "The other part's not right because you're not Tuvix."

"Tuvix?"

"From an episode of Star Trek Voyager. Two characters became one for an episode." A pause, then: "The thing is, Daria and Faith were never individuals or one unified being. Splitting you up again would not be the 'restoration' of two people with two separate lives, but one person with two separate lives. And that's not even factoring in the echo."

"Yeah, I've noticed the occasional Buffy-esque phrase creeping into my speech and thought processes."

"You -- Daria Faith Morgendorffer -- are the best you can be, right now. That it was a shortcut rather than long and intensive therapy gives me a couple of qualms. But not enough for me to think that this isn't the best thing for you.

After one more night, they were ready to fly back to LA. Dawn was getting antsy and pretty much everyone was getting tired of sleeping on the floor.

And that's when Willow and Tara came up to Daria. "We have it," Tara said. "We can drain Willow now."

"Good. Maybe once you're done you'll have some nice beachfront property."

"You know what we mean," Willow said. "If you want the mental structure back, you can have it. Just say the word."

Daria paused a moment and then delivered her answer.


	51. Epilogue: Twice

Disclaimer: This is it. Maybe there'll be another adventure for Daria, Lynette Vaughn and Cameron Kim at some point, but for the moment I'm going to be concentrating on Martian Manhunter.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, all the feedback, everything.

Disclaimer: Joss owns all of the _Buffy _and _Angel _characters. Glenn Eichler created the_ Daria_ characters. I created Lynette and Will Vaughn and Cameron Kim.

X X X X X

In California, the first thing both Lynette Vaughn and Buffy Summers did was make a beeline to Lynette's home on Palladium Lane. For somewhat differing reasons, of course. Buffy wanted to be reunited with her sister, to tell her that yes, Glory was dead, and no, you won't have to worry about being bled any longer. While Dawn Summers' welfare was definitely of concern to Lynette, she also wanted to see her husband. They'd been apart before, and they'd be apart again, but never under circumstances like these.

Everyone else, except for Daria, was heading back for Sunnydale. Almost all of them just wanted to rest, mentally and physically, to put the events of the last week or so in perspective. Tara MacLay, for instance, was dealing with the long gash down on her arm that, just as Lynette had thought, would always be visible. A minor disfigurement, and not one that seemed to faze the young witch or her lover. But still.

Xander and Anya were dealing with their relationship. The night before they left Lawndale to come back to Los Angeles, the two of them had gone into the Lane backyard, sat in a gazebo, and discussed the ramifications of Anya's killing of Ben.

Lynette knew this because she saw them talk, but didn't listen in and enlisted Buffy and Daria in making sure no one else did, either.

They all had been privy to the result. Xander and the ex-demon left the gazebo holding hands, once again. The young man had said, "Love may not conquer all, but I'm damn sure going to give it its best shot at victory."

At which point Buffy had looked at Daria and said, "So does this mean we don't get to kick his ass?"

"Darn," Daria had said. "And I was so looking forward to the opportunity to spindle, fold and mutilate someone. I guess I'll just have to work out my psychotic tendencies elsewhere."

Spike was the only one who wasn't in the mood for immediate R&R. He announced plans to spend a couple of nights working his way around Sunnydale looking for any minions Glory might have left behind and, in his words, "Tellin' them what we did to their god and maybe beating the piss out of any of 'em who don't like it."

"Which should be most of them," Tara had pointed out.

"Most likely." Lynette was reasonably sure this translated to killing as many minions as he could get his hands on, but given how recently they'd been trying to kill her, she honestly didn't care.

"Just stay alert," Buffy had said. "It's going to take me a little longer to get back down there and, on the off chance someone decides to take this opportunity for a little impromptu rampage through Sunnydale, I want you keeping an eye out."

"You do?" Spike had said, startled. "You trust me that much?"

"It may be a crooked game," Daria had said. "But it's the only game in town."

Spike had glared at her, but Buffy's simultaneous "Yes" had taken some of the sting out of the glare.

Lynette left the Summers sisters to their reunion while she went to talk to Will. Buffy and the rest of them had given her leave to tell him as much or as little as she thought was necessary to explain what had happened over the last few days. She was hesitant to tell him everything. Not because she didn't trust him; Will Vaughn was one of the most honest and honorable people she'd ever met. The question was whether he could handle the secret -- or, to be honest, whether he might think it was a really cool idea for his next show.)

For the moment she decided to take the safe route. "Hey, baby," Will said. "Good to see you back."

"You got the _Jill of the Forest_ finale written and ready?"

"Oh yeah. And -- guess what?"

"What?"

"Already picked up for a second season."

This was terrific. "When?"

"Got the news earlier today. The second season's going to air in January. Still, after I get the last two episodes shot we should have a couple of months before I have to do anything major."

"Good," she said.

"So. How much you gonna tell me about the last few days?"

She sat down next to him. "How much do you want to know?"

"Nothing that'll get you arrested," he said. "I know you can't tell me much. Doctor-patient privilege. Still, you usually don't go chasing across the country. And that's not even getting into why you left Dawn Summers here."

"Well," she said, "The situation once Daria and I got down to Sunnydale was strange. We were going down to see this girl Buffy Summers -- the one Faith felt she needed forgiveness from. Turns out, there were these two cults down in Sunnydale --"

"The Knights of Byzantium. Jesus, baby, why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now," she said. "Anyway, they were after Buffy Summers' younger sister . . ."

When she was done, he said, "That sounds like the plot of a show." Before Lynette could roll her eyes at her husband's predictability, he said, "A bad one. I try running that on _Jill of the Forest_ and the audience'd laugh their asses off before they changed the channel to a _Law & Order_ rerun."

"It's the truth," she said.

"Oh, I know. You wouldn't lie to me." She just had, of course; but even with the express consent of Buffy and Daria, she still didn't feel like these were her secrets to give.

Maybe later, she'd tell him everything.

X X X X X

By the time she got to California, Cameron Kim was already healed. She fixed her arm the second the Wolfram & Hart representatives got her onto the plane, and did her best to repair the damage to her internal organs.

The doctors they brought along for the plane ride confirmed that she'd done a pretty good job, but that she'd have to stay off active duty for a while.

Well, of course she would. Wolfram & Hart just didn't know how long a while would be, yet.

Lilah, of course, wasn't on the plane. The doctors cleared out of the "hospital room" they had set up for the plane ride back to LA, and Cameron called Lilah back in LA. "Don't turn your cell phones on in flight" didn't apply to custom-built, magical Wolfram & Hart phones.

Unless, of course, Wolfram & Hart _wanted_ the person on board to die in a flaming wreck. It had only happened once so far. The hazards of trusting Wolfram & Hart tech too far.

Speaking of which: She'd have to hand in her ring when she got back, and remember that from here on out to shapechange naked -- either that, or to get an unlimited charge account at Macy's. Hmmm. Could be fun either way.

Anyway. Lilah. "So I take it you have the general idea and just want me to fill in a few details?" Cameron said.

"Yes," Lilah said. "That Glorificus is now dead seems painfully obvious. That she's now dead is also what turns this mission from a disaster into, possibly, a success. Tell me what happened."

So Cameron told her everything she could, starting with Lilah's intuition having been right about the Key being Dawn Summers, and ending when she got thrown into the tree. She started to describe the rest of the fight, but Lilah interrupted with, "This DeMartino saw you change?"

"Yes. But he apparently already knew about magic and doesn't want to go to any insane asylums," Cameron said. "He's not going to say anything."

"Okay. Low priority, anyway. The only ones he could expose are the Slayers and you. Don't bother with the rest of the fight; the important thing there is that you woke up to a dead hellgod. As for your first assignment --" Everything hinged on how Lilah phrased this next question -- "You were in close contact with Daria Morgendorffer and quite possibly everyone on the planet who would know if Faith, the Slayer, still exists. So. Does she?"

Cameron relaxed. "No. She doesn't. Any signs of Slayer abilities can be chalked up to the muscle memory. Not that she's an incompetent fighter herself. But Daria Morgendorffer is not Faith Lehane."

Lilah said, "Good. Money we didn't waste, then. Let's make sure we encourage her to have a nice, long, peaceful life. It doesn't bother us if she reacts to a few people screaming for help now and again. As long as she doesn't interfere with her plans."

"As far as I know, she has no plans to do so."

"Good. As far as Dawn Summers being the Key, I blew that as much as you did, and it's too late to hide my mistake there from the Senior Partners. Or blame it all on you."

"If you want to do that," Cameron said, "It wouldn't bother me."

Lilah laughed. "One of the first times I've ever heard someone here actually volunteer to take more blame than they deserve -- at least, without having their family being held hostage, or something. You really are too honorable for words, aren't you, Kim? How the hell did you get mixed up with us?"

"I signed a contract," Cameron said.

"Right. Well, the doctors say you're on light duty for a few days until they're sure your internal injuries have healed; and since pretty much everything you do counts as not light duty, after you come by and give your detailed report in person I'm putting you on leave."

"Good," she said. "I could use the time off."

And then Cameron came back to LA, made her final report, and went home.

X X X X X

In California, Buffy was reunited with Dawn.

As a tearful, joyous reunion it left something to be desired. They sniped at each other for a few minutes -- mostly playfully -- until Buffy finally said, "Look, are you glad to be alive?"

"Yeah."

"Then I think the matter's settled."

Dawn said, "Probably. But don't think I'm not going to hold this over you for the rest of my life."

"Me hold it over you?" Dawn nodded. Buffy shook her head and said, "Only you could take the fact that this plan saved your life and somehow turn it into something that I owe you."

"That's what little sisters are for," Dawn said.

"I think I saw that in the dictionary somewhere. Right next to the phrase pain in the ass."

Dawn said, "You read a dictionary?"

"I'm not completely intellectually deficient," Buffy said.

"Let me rephrase that. You read?"

"Ha. Ha."

Dawn's voice got serious. "Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize I don't mean any of these things I'm saying, right? You do realize that I missed you and I'm glad you're all alive and all of that, right?"

Buffy came over and gave her a hug. When she pulled free, she said, "Of course I do. Glory's dead. Everyone survived. And, probably the most important thing of all, Xander and Anya made up."

"Good. Because he was being a real jackass."

"I don't know," Buffy said. "It kind of startled me, too."

"Yeah, but I'm betting it stopped bothering you long before it stopped bothering Xander."

Buffy sighed. "Don't get me wrong. Someone had to do it. It was, unfortunately, the only way to stop Glory. Even after Daria and Spike and Willow beat the living hell out of her she didn't die; she just became Ben again. But I don't like that we had to. I _accept_ that we had to, but there's a difference. I will never like that. And I hope like hell none of us ever has to do something like it again." She paused, then added, "I just don't want it to ever be easy. For any of us."

"You don't get to control what the rest of us do," Dawn said. The tone made it not a challenge or a shot, but a simple reminder. Buffy took it that way.

"Well, you're wrong about that," Buffy said. "I get to control what you do."

Dawn started laughing.

Buffy said, "Well, I get to try." She looked around. "Not a bad place to hole up for a few days, if you have to hole up."

"It wasn't complete torture," Dawn said. "Mr. Vaughn was nice, though I really don't think he interacts with kids much. Basically I watched TV and read a lot. Including that book Daria's aunt wrote about her."

"Any good?"

"Yeah. I think even you might like it."

"You forget. I don't read."

"Right. Well, the first thing to do is teach you what letters are. This," she said, pointing to the cover of the book, "Is an A."

"Hold on," Buffy said. "You're going too fast." Then, another smile. "I did miss you, too, you know. Cameron might have looked like you and did her best to act like you, but she wasn't you."

"Back atcha." Then, after a second, "So, where do we go from here, and how do we get there? 'cause if you're driving, I'm so walking."

"Relax," Dr. Vaughn's voice came from the other room. "I remember the rule: Buffy doesn't drive even if the world's about to come to an end. We're going over to visit Cameron Kim, and then to drop in on Daria."

"Where is Daria?"

"Making arrangements," Buffy said.

X X X X X

In California, Daria Morgendorffer --

Check that. Daria _Faith_ Morgendorffer --

Waited in the lobby of the Hyperion. If Angel and his crew took much longer, they might have to go looking for them.

And Daria would go. Angel was one of the few people who'd stuck by her, in either incarnation.

While she waited, she read, and she thought.

Thought back to her decision.

"Thanks," she'd told Willow. "But I think I'm going to stay as I am."

Xander'd said, "You sure about that? Magic effect in the head not always the wacky fun time it sounds like."

"I'm sure," Daria'd said.

"Hold on," Willow had said. "Xander's got a point. Do you trust me to do a quick check of your head?"

Daria had told her to go ahead. Willow had muttered a couple of words, closed her eyes, and concentrated.

"Well?"

"I don't see anything."

"Old joke," Daria said.

"I couldn't resist."

"Next time, try harder. I assume you mean you saw nothing wrong?"

"Exactly. Magic might have caused your integration, but your brain right now is stable. As stable as it ever was, anyway."

"So, just to be clear, anyone who wants to tamper ain't going to have it any easier because of Glory's interference. Am I right?"

Willow had nodded. "You're right."

"Good. Then I have a question for you: When you stuck your hands inside the hellbitch's head and drained her, how much did you get?"

"We, we didn't measure," Tara had said. "It's, you know, not exactly the kind of thing they sell at Target."

"Probably wouldn't make much money if they did," Jane had said. The two of them would still try to stay friends -- even if that meant Jane had to get to know the new Daria all over again. But they'd give it a shot.

"Do you have a rough idea?" Daria had said. "Shit, I'm not looking for precise measurements anyway."

"Probably enough for two people," came Willow's response. "Maybe three."

"Well, then, go cure a few."

Jane had said, "Could you have Mack be one of them? Even though he was a member of this little cult, I always kind of liked the guy. He was one of the few reasonably sane people around Lawndale."

B'd echoed it. "Yeah, put my vote in there as well."

Willow said, "Shouldn't be a problem. Anyone else you want? There's a list of the mad in the morning paper."

"A list of the mad?" Daria had said. "Wouldn't that be longer than the newspaper? And by newspaper I mean the _New York Times_. The Sunday edition. And the Manhattan phone directory."

"Okay, fine. A list of the _recently_ insane."

"I think my point holds."

Jane, meanwhile, had been looking at the paper. "Good heavens, no. All that's on here is a bunch of people from the school. Most of them would probably function better as deranged lunatics." After a pause, she added, "Certainly, the school's going to function better."

"Almost makes you wish you could go back there to find out, huh?" Daria had asked.

Jane's eyes had widened. "I'm not the one who needs their sanity restored around here, amiga."

And then they'd come home. She had Jane's phone number. She actually had the damn thing memorized. Oh, she didn't _need_anyone, but it was kind of nice having a few people she could actually rely on. Jane. Doc Vaughn, Buffy, probably, even if that was more a Slayery-bonding-type thing than a genuine connection. And Angel.

"Assuming," she muttered to herself, "That he ever actually _shows up again_!"

And right then, of course, is when the double front doors to the Hyperion opened. Angel entered, followed by Wesley, Cordelia, and two people Daria hadn't seen before, one a good-looking black guy with a shaved head, the other a woman who looked like she needed a change of clothes and a bath.

"There's no place like . . . " He stopped when he saw Daria standing there. "Daria?"

"What's going on?" Cordelia said.

"This note should explain everything," Daria said. "Or it would have if you'd been here to read the damn thing."

Angel took the note and read it, then passed it to Cordelia. The bald black guy told the unfamiliar woman, "C'mon, Fred. Let's get you upstairs. I'm sure Angel'll tell us what's going on later." The tone implied that Angel had fucking well better explain it.

After Wesley read the note, he said, "All this note says is, 'Pick up Dawn from the home of Will Vaughn as soon as you can." That's hardly an explanation."

"Hey, I said it _should_ explain everything, not that it actually dead. So sue me if Buffy's note-writing skills ain't what they should be."

"First off," Angel said, "Is everyone okay?"

"Give or take the odd concussion or gash, yes," Daria said.

"Gash?" Cordelia said.

"Willow's girl Tara got herself a long, nasty cut down her arm."

"How?" Wesley said.

"Long story," Daria said.

"Before you tell it, can I ask a question?"

"Absolutely," Daria said.

"Who the hell are you? You look and sound like Daria and Faith combined."

"Which is why I referred to the tale of my recent adventures as a 'long story' and not a 'short story,' " Daria said.

"I think ours can beat yours," Cordelia said.

"I doubt it. We traveled across the country."

"We traveled to an alternate dimension."

"I found someone I'm hoping will be a friend."

"I found a really hot guy who loves me."

"We fought minions."

"We killed evil priests."

"We killed a god."

Cordelia threw her hands in the air, "Fine, you win." Daria smiled slightly.

"So, what happened?" Angel said.

Daria told them the whole story. The other guy -- turned out his name was Gunn -- came down, but apart from saying, "Fred's asleep," didn't say anything while Daria was telling her story.

"So you're really both Daria and Faith?" Angel said.

"Got it in one," Daria said. "Call me Daria Faith Morgendorffer. Now, anyone else need me to repeat that? I do realize it's a concept that might not lend itself readily to immediate apprehension. Even for someone with as big a brain as yours, Wes."

Wesley said, "No, I believe I got it the first time. Now. As for Ms. Kim: We really won't be able to offer her much money."

"Obviously you didn't get it, Wes," Angel said. "The important thing there isn't how much we pay her; it's that she's bound by contract to us. For life."

"Fair enough," Wesley said. "I shall have one drawn up tomorrow morning."

"I do realize that you all just got back from an adventure of your own and probably want to wind down," Daria said. "But is there any chance you might be able to at least come up with a preliminary contract earlier?"

"Like, say, now?"

More people had just entered the Hyperion:

B, Dawn, Doc Vaughn . . . and Cameron Kim. B had been the one who'd just spoken. "Good to see you in one piece," Daria said.

"Thanks," Cameron said. Then she turned to Wesley. "The reason I might need the contract now is that I just called Wolfram & Hart and announced my resignation. Since I'm guessing they're not too happy, having another official contract would help. It would help me, at any rate."

Wesley said, "Come into the back room. We can negotiate."

As they left, Cordelia said to Buffy, "Did you really do everything Daria said you did?"

Looking at Daria, B said, "Depends. What did she say I did?"

Daria smiled. "You're learning, grasshopper."

"I'm sorry we weren't here," Angel said.

"Right," B said. "You're none of you allowed to have your own lives."

As Cordelia snorted, Angel said. "Okay, so the apology's not necessary."

"And just because we weren't killing a god doesn't mean we weren't actually busy," Cordelia said.

"No one said otherwise," Daria said. "Look. I got money from my aunt, I'm going to want to get my GED and go on to college, but once I'm done training with Buffy over here I'm thinking I might want to give you guys a hand, too."

Angel said, "Sure. Um, are you going to want a contract too?"

"Naah," Daria said. "I think I'm good. I have a place to stay --" she nodded at Doc Vaughn -- "And I have enough money to last me a while. Besides, I'm a Slayer. Charging for saving someone from a vampire seems to miss the point." A pause, then: "Although it would be amusing, running alongside someone and saying, 'Really? Your life is only worth $500?' I wouldn't do it." Another beat. "Unless it was really funny."

Doc Vaughn said, "Daria . . ." with a slight air of reprimand.

"I did say unless it was funny."

B said, "Hold on. You still need to train?"

Daria said, "Of course. Even with the Slayer instinct now fully installed, I'm still much weaker at most weapons than you are. I might be better than you are with knives, but I think you could probably beat me with pretty much everything else."

"She could kick you from here to next Tuesday," Dawn said.

"I'm not so sure," B murmured. "I think I'd win more often than not, but I think you're better than you think."

"Hey. I have low self-esteem on most things. My ability to kick your ass in a fight isn't one of them."

"Isn't this where we came in?" B said.

"More or less," Daria said. "So," then she raised her voice slightly, "How's it going in there, Wes?"

"We have a preliminary contract written and signed," Wesley said.

"Good."

Right then, a group of demons burst through the front door of the Hyperion. "Where's Cameron Kim?" the one in the lead said.

"Right here," Cameron said, walking out from whatever back room she'd been in. Pulling a rung from her finger, she threw it to the lead demon. "I think this belongs to you."

"So do you," the demon said.

"Not any more," Cameron said.

"You're in violation of your contract," the demon said.

"Actually, her contract is with us, now," Wesley said, emerging from the back room. "Her contract with you expired the minute she died. I believe this was all explained to Ms. Morgan."

"It was," Cameron said.

"And as for being in violation," Angel said, "You're on my property without my permission. I give you five seconds to leave. If Wolfram & Hart wants to discuss this, they can do it during normal business hours."

"You think you can take us?" the demons said.

"Let's see," Daria said. "Ten of you, and one, two, three four, five, six, seven, eight, nine of us. So I believe the answer to that question is an unqualified 'yes.'"

The demons shrugged and attacked.

Even though Dawn and Doc Vaughn hung back, and Cordelia stayed on the periphery, the battle was over in minutes. Cameron pressed the ring into the hands of the surviving demon and said, "Tell her I have a new contract."

The demon nodded twice, backed up, turned and ran.

"I noticed a little mistake there before the fight," B said. "You said there were nine of us."

"Yeah, I believe I did."

B ticked off on her fingers. "Me, you, Dawn, Cameron, Dr. Vaughn, Angel, Wesley, and Cordelia."

Daria smiled. "I count twice."


End file.
